Tag: chroniclingthedays

Chronicling the Days – Mary Thaler

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 Mary Thaler, writing in March 2020.

Creative Commons

20 March

A bad day is when

In the minutes after waking

In the minutes that come after the waking minutes

When you’re awake, and you see all the minutes that are coming

A day full of minutes, a river of sand

Each one a parched universe

Fluttering wisps of appointments, lists, and poor decisions

And all of them empty

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

April 18, 2020
Chronicling the Days – Babsie Chalifoux-Reis

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 Babsie Chalifoux-Reis, writing in April, 2020.

My days have been spent in fear. Not in fear of getting sick, but of a myriad of other factors I didn’t know I needed to fear. At first my anxieties were practical in nature. I feared losing my job, which I did, and losing my apartment, which I didn’t. Then came the restlessness.

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

April 17, 2020
Chronicling the Days – Ian Thomas Shaw

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 Ian Thomas Shaw, writing on April 8, 2020.

Andy Warhol Campbell Soup Cans (1962)

Fear.

I walk toward the entrance, mustering the courage to put on the mask. I pull it out, adjust it as I have seen on Youtube and jam my hands back into my pockets. A guard approaches. He stops six feet away and says, “Vos mains.” I start to raise my hands into the air when he nods to a portable sink in the corner. Dutifully, I shuffle over to it. The water is lukewarm, the liquid soap cheap and slimy. “Vingt secondes!” I nod at this new command.

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

April 17, 2020
Chronicling the Days – Constantin Polychronakos

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 Constantin Polychronakos, writing on April date, 2020.

Home alone.

Call it an opportunity to catch up with all the things I have been putting off. Call it an opportunity to meditate on the illusion of certainty. But what am I doing today, cocooning all alone in the safety of my apartment, phoning, e-mailing and Zooming with my non-urgent patients? Is singing So Long Marianne out the window the best I can do? I should have been in the front lines, in the emergency room, in the intensive care, fighting COVID in a hail of droplets. I know I am invincible! I know I can beat the coronavirus, I have already vanquished it, caught it by the horns and wrestled it to the ground, with only a few bruises to show for it.

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

April 16, 2020
Chronicling the Days – Caroline Vu

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 Caroline Vu, writing in March, 2020.

Photo: Caroline Vu

Days of Guilt.

I know I did nothing wrong. I did not travel. I did not party. I did not cough in anyone’s face. Yet I feel guilty. I look downward on my way to the grocery store. I wear dark glasses to mask my Asian features. I smile apologetically at the woman on the bus as she shoos me away. By accident, my sanitized fingers had touched her rubber-gloved hands. Her reaction surprises me. I didn’t realize it was such a big deal. The accidental grazing of two gloved hands—I didn’t know it’s the new social sin.

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

April 16, 2020
Chronicling the Days – Michelle Ariss

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 Michelle Ariss, writing on Saturday April 4, 2020.

Photo: Michelle Ariss

Normal Circumstances.

Saturday April 4, 2020: the fourth day of the fourth month of a leap-year, the spring most of us wish we could just leap over. Go directly to summer or even further, into autumn, instead of pandemic “jail,” although the quarters to which I am confined are about as far from a prisoner’s four walls as they can be. So, no complaints here, unless I talk about the fact that, at the age of 70, I moved from the Eastern Townships, where I had lived for close to two decades, to a neighbouring bilingual city in Ontario where I know no-one. The closest family member lives a good hour’s drive away.

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

April 15, 2020
Chronicling the Days – Ami Sands Brodoff

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 Ami Sands Brodoff, writing on Sat April 4, 2020.

Today is my eldest son Tobias’ 27^th birthday. He is in New York and I am here in Montreal. The distance has never felt so vast.

I’m on my usual 5 km exercise walk from my home in western NDG up to the top of Monkland Village and then back. I text Toby bday wishes and love. I’m worried about him.

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

April 15, 2020
Chronicling the Days – Marianne Ackerman

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 Marianne Ackerman, writing on Saturday April 4, 2020.

Salvador Dali – The Persistence of Memory [Creative Commons]

8 am. Wake up to the smell of coffee, husband bearing tray with cereal, yogurt, blueberries. The bundle of newspapers he tosses on the bed is huge, so it’s Saturday. We read silently, the best bits out loud. Grim news, yet there is solace to be found in knowing, receiving thoughts developed by smart people who are paying attention.

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

April 14, 2020
Chronicling the Days – Mark Foss

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 Mark Foss, writing on Sunday, April 5, 2020.

Photo: Mark Foss

I am in a fallow period with my writing, awaiting one of several ideas to take hold, unwilling to force-feed my imagination. So when I wake in early morning, I don’t rush to the computer. I lie flat in the dark, but get restless after a few minutes. How do I remove sleep from my eyes without touching my face?

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

April 14, 2020
Chronicling the Days – Surehka Surendran
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.

What’s the story of your days?
Emergency Nurse Surehka Surendran
As an ER nurse, everyday I wake up asking myself how my day is going to be. Will it be a relaxing day at work? In what section of the ER will I work? Will any of my patients end up being intubated? When is the apocalypse coming to the hospital?

To read the rest of the story, please support our community and check out Chronicling the Days: Dispatches from a Pandemic
April 13, 2020