Lawless Letters

We’re in our fifth week of the state-mandated COVID-19 lockdown. I’ve just spent my 39th consecutive day in the company of nobody except my husband, kids, dog, cat, and the platoon of ants that plundered our kitchen. Shit’s still as weird as it was a month ago , but, to my surprise, it’s not all bad. It took me a few weeks (and bottles of wine) to get here. When this all started, many of us went through a “WTF period” as we flailed around, adjusting to the new normal. Take it from me: supervising e-learning for two children while simultaneously working a full-time corporate job is not for the weak. Suddenly I was wearing multiple hats, all day, every day: teacher’s aide, tech support, cook, hall monitor, recess monitor, stage manager, janitor, and counselor, plus my day job. When you wear nine hats at the same time, a couple of them are bound to fall off at least once a day. To cope, and because my brain requires lists, I started jotting down things I missed. After a while, I sta

Billy shoved the spade downward, scooping dirt. Clang. With his fingers, he dug trenches around the metal box, wiggled it free. Behind the oak, Grandpa had said. These hands can’t dig anymore. Finders, keepers. The lid creaked open. Atop the pile, Joe DiMaggio’s face smiled back at Billy. Prompt: earth