It Will Be A Bit Longer

All I can think of are dominoes falling. Rapid and deafening and terrifying. Their sound separated from them like a jet's engine roar from above the clouds or lightning cracking the atmosphere. I couldn't see where the dominoes were or what path they were taking. They approached quietly and just so shockingly fast that I couldn't connect the sound with the physical until I could only look back at what had just happened. The inevitable trauma.

I am stuck in some space of, "Wait, we were JUST going out, doing things, congregating just because we wanted to."
So very suddenly everyone and every surface feels suspect. I get the mail and wash my hands. If there's a package, I open it, wash my hands, and only then take the contents out. Then I wash my hands a-fucking-gain. I washed my hands so many times yesterday just dealing with mail - and food packages, because MAYBE they had been touched by someone at the grocery store who has it. I think I might be just plain going overboard with this. I am going to stop myself short from talking about how maybe I have actually been a bit overboard for a lot longer than this whole thing has been going on...eh-hem.

A few years ago I tried cabbage

I think of the future, when we all finally get the go ahead to see each other in the flesh again. I imagine a slow, skeptical collective creep. We won't rush to hug each other. We will not know what reality to trust anymore. We will have waited so long, in confinement, to be set free. In the meantime, our perspectives and perceptions will have altered at an imperceptible rate. The dominoes falling in our fragile psyches - the sound only to be heard in the aftermath.