Reader-submitted stories of the COVID-19 pandemic, in no more than 100 words. Read past stories here. Submit your own here.
I feel hollowed out. This isn’t the kind of solidarity that fills me with meaning, like feminism…. This is survival solidarity. It’s a hollowness of memories robbed from me, of health and life robbed from others. I feel lost without my community. I miss my people. I feel disconnected… isolated. I feel angry and sad when I read the news. I see the death toll and think about what those people might have meant to their loved ones. I read what the administration says and my blood boils. Our people deserve better. Our planet deserves better. Yet I am stuck.
— Signe Jeremiason (Saint Peter, Minnesota)
* * *
Plum blossoms fall like snow, and a Steller’s jay, with its charcoal-colored topknot and sapphire tail feathers, collects dead grass to build a nest in the alder tree, where he and his mate will squawk and squawk. I don’t know until I turn on my TV that in New York City, 1,900 people have died in the last 72 hours, doubling the number in the previous 72. Outside hospitals, bodies are loaded into refrigerated morgue trucks by gurney and forklift. The first infant has died, and one million people worldwide have contracted COVID-19, doubling the number in one week.
— Elaine Nussbaum (Scappoose, Oregon)
* * *
part fear, part hope
part heart, part mind
part science, part art
Unpassing time is about how being in a ‘connected solitude’ bubble is liberating, and tackling the COVID crisis is a test run for the climate crisis.
Uncharting paths refers to our need to unlearn, quickly, deeply.
Unseen cultures is about imagining a sustainable world we have not yet seen but already know.
— Claude Schryer (Ottawa, Canada)
* * *
The Play That is Our Life Under COVID-19, or Self Talk
The narrator of my life insisted on saying, “And from that point on, everything went quickly down hill.”
She was replaced.
The second narrator insisted on saying, “One day and then the next, in dismal succession.”
She was replaced.
These narrators think they know everything! The third narrator is practicing her lines. She is learning to say, “We are staying at home. We are washing our hands. We are playing our part.”
— Karen Elias (Lock Haven, Pennsylvania)
This series is edited by Thomas Peterson. One of the editors of Artists & Climate Change, he is also a theatre director and researcher whose work focuses on the climate crisis.
3 thoughts on “Tiny Coronavirus Stories: ‘The third narrator is practicing her lines’”
Such lovely work, these Tiny Coronavirus Stories and images. Thank you.
You’re very welcome. Feel free to send us yours if you’re inspired!
Love these short stories. Really related to “Hollowness.”