In April 2020, we invited writers in Quebec to submit a story of a single day during the strange, uneasy time of coronavirus and pandemic, of social distancing and self isolation, of lockdown and quarantine.
We’re thrilled to announce that these stories have been gathered in Chronicling the Days: Dispatches from a Pandemic (Guernica Press). To learn more and buy the book, please visit https://www.guernicaeditions.com/title/9781771836579.
Please also join us on the QWF FB Community page, and let the authors know if their words resonated.
This piece is by Jill Sapphire-Goldberg, writing on Saturday, April 25, 2020.
I hear the songbird in the predawn. I slept, as I usually do, with my window open. I believe the cold helps me sleep more deeply, and I really need to sleep better. I sleep a little more, simply because I can. There is a carless silence that is thick, even though I live right in town. I’m used to it now. When I finally awaken, sun shining into my room, I actually get out of bed. However, I’m aware of the word for what I’m feeling. Depression. I’m even getting accustomed to cycles through the week.
To read the rest of the story, please support our community and check out Chronicling the Days: Dispatches from a Pandemic
QWF Writes 
Thank you, Jill. Reaching across the miles to give you a distance hug.
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