QWF Writes

Author: qwfwrites

  • Chronicling the Days – Anne Lewis

    Chronicling the Days – Anne Lewis

    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 Anne Lewis, writing on April 22, 2020.

    Photo: Creative Commons

    Answer Me This

    Well, and so, I have said it all, is it not enough? All the sharp words blunted, were they not enough? And the idle engine chuckling, was it not sufficient? And the frozen badlands kicking me in the tucked chin, were they not allowed to shut me up? Nope.

    To read the rest of the story, please support our community and check out Chronicling the Days: Dispatches from a Pandemic

  • Chronicling the Days – Louise Hinton

    Chronicling the Days – Louise Hinton

    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 Louise Hinton, writing in April 2020.

    La Siesta – Henri Manguin (1905, Creative Commons)

    On waking:

    What day is it?

    Enough sleep, car gone

    Rainbows, a cup of tea, the ticking clock

    To read the rest of the story, please support our community and check out Chronicling the Days: Dispatches from a Pandemic.

  • Chronicling the Days – Alison Piper

    Chronicling the Days – Alison Piper

    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 Alison Piper, writing in April 2020.

    Photo: Alison Piper

    The pink super moon rises

    The pink super moon rises quickly in a golden blaze, as if in a hurry. Its white facial features come into full view as night falls. This heavenly beacon shines down on the rainbow-lit structures of pandemic Montreal. The new Champlain bridge, the Big O, office towers and the Montreal Biosphere are glowing with red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet. Or so I imagine it. I am only watching the moon from my six-foot-wide second storey windows, because like everyone else, I am not allowed to leave my neighbourhood of NDG. Like everyone else, I am a little afraid to leave my apartment or go too far, anyway.

    To read the rest of the story, please support our community and check out Chronicling the Days: Dispatches from a Pandemic.

  • Chronicling the Days – Karen Zey

    Chronicling the Days – Karen Zey

    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 Karen Zey, writing on Thursday, April 23, 2020.

    Image: Creative Commons

    Under Control?

    Today is Day 46. Two weeks since the clinic visit, and hubby is symptom free. The knot in my stomach eases. I scratch a checkmark on the kitchen calendar, then settle at the computer to write down my stress.

    Day 1

    I’ve got this. Hubby is a senior with chronic health conditions, and I’m a middle-of-the-night worrier. All we need is a plan, just like everyone else. Focus. I’ve got this. Two of us in self-isolation: check. Order groceries online: check. Lentils, root vegetables, tinned fruit just in case: check. Brisk walks at a safe social distance: check. I am a loving, well-organized, do-everything-possible-to keep-him healthy kind of wife and—I’ve got this.

    To read the rest of the story, please support our community and check out Chronicling the Days: Dispatches from a Pandemic

  • Chronicling the Days – Anabelle Zaluski

    Chronicling the Days – Anabelle Zaluski

    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 Anabelle Zaluski, writing in April 2020.

    Photo: Creative Commons

    I pull my boots on, flatten my coat against my body, and set my mask delicately across my face. Grocery shopping is an ordeal now, I’ve learned, foreseen with the care and planning of a war. Do I have my list? The cart to pull behind me? Will I remember to keep distance, and to only pick up the apples that I plan on buying, instead of examining every one?

    To read the rest of the story, please support our community and check out Chronicling the Days: Dispatches from a Pandemic.

  • Chronicling the Days – Elisa Robin Wells

    Chronicling the Days – Elisa Robin Wells

    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 Elisa Robin Wells, writing in April 2020.

    Photo: Elisa Robin Wells

    I have a confession to make. It might sound weird or even callous but in some ways I’m enjoying the shut down. I like the lessening of noise outside my apartment. I also like the lack of expectation to go or do anything.

    Once I stopped working grocery shopping and walking became my only excursions outside. Yet, as I walked around my Cote-des-Neiges neighbourhood I saw squashed plastic water bottles on the edges of roads, tucked under hedges and littering every public grassy area.

    To read the rest of the story, please support our community and check out Chronicling the Days: Dispatches from a Pandemic

  • Chronicling the Days – Sylwia Bielec

    Chronicling the Days – Sylwia Bielec

    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 Sylwia Bielec, writing in March 2020.

    Photo: Sylwia Bielec

    Day 14. You think it’s about the isolation but it’s not. I work at home already, and with my daughter home, I am less alone than before. It’s almost fun, like a weird, tense vacation. I don’t have any face to face meetings that should have been an email either. As a GenX latchkey kid, I am well equipped to handle both aloneness and boredom, although I am rarely afflicted with the latter. 

    Addendum: Cooked two meals, and made one snack. We took two walks, did a workout from YouTube. A full day of work, including a meeting where people just needed to talk about their new lives. Sent a bunch of follow-up emails. Texted my mom. Bought a gift online. Everything is normal and nothing is.

    To read the rest of the story, please support our community and check out Chronicling the Days: Dispatches from a Pandemic

  • Chronicling the Days – Mariam S. Pal

    Chronicling the Days – Mariam S. Pal

    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 Mariam S. Pal, writing on Monday, April 20, 2020.

    Image: Creative Commons

    My Masquerade

    My masquerade begins. I wipe off my red lipstick, adjust the mask’s folds up over my nose and down onto my chin. I‘m careful the elastics do not get ensnared in my earrings as I slide the straps over the backs of my ears. Wearing a mask in public is my new routine. Exiting the car, I look around. Many faces are covered.

    To read the rest of the story, please support our community and check out Chronicling the Days: Dispatches from a Pandemic

  • Chronicling the Days – Linda Thompson

    Chronicling the Days – Linda Thompson

    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 Linda Thompson, writing on Monday April 13, 2020.

    Photo: Creative Commons

    I’ve noticed a pattern since quarantine began on March 16th for me: One day I feel hopeful and the next I crash. The weather can change that one way or another. So when I open my eyes to the sound of pelting rain, I wait for the crushing feel of despair to weigh me down. Instead, I feel acceptance settle in my bones. For today at least, I am the lamb faithfully believing that the shepherds of our collective health will lead us to better days.

    To read the rest of the story, please support our community and check out Chronicling the Days: Dispatches from a Pandemic

  • Chronicling the Days – Emily Brown

    Chronicling the Days – Emily Brown

    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 Emily Brown, writing on Wednesday April 15, 2020.

    Photo: Creative Commons

    The day starts as it always has done since my thyroid was removed, by placing a small blue pill on my tongue and washing it down with water. Only now when I glance at the remaining pills, stacked at the bottom of their little pot, I’m reminded of the fear I had four years ago, when I first became reliant on a drug to keep me alive. What if society collapses, pharmacies turn to wastelands, and I’m forced to start breeding pigs for their thyroids? It seemed like a pretty implausible possibility then.

    To read the rest of the story, please support our community and check out Chronicling the Days: Dispatches from a Pandemic