Corona Bubble

Yesterday we had two training sessions for our baristas. Two months without contact, the first thing they did when they saw one another was race together for hugs. “No hugs!” I said. Unheeded Cassandra. We do not live in the same world.

* * * * *

Later I moved through an empty cafe, watering plants. Talking to walls. A spray bottle of sanitizer in my hand. A rag for wiping. I sprayed and wiped and arranged the deck chairs on this landlocked Titanic, thought of Nero, who may have fiddled, or strummed a cithara, so much gets lost in translation.

* * *

My music partner and I haven’t gotten together to play since the lockdown started. He sent me a text yesterday suggesting a backyard session, and I almost agreed, until I remembered that I would be spending the day with my baristas, young and incautious and perhaps asymptomatic. Thou shalt not become a vector.

Meanwhile, this link reminded me that I have a keyboard and headphones, and that even in isolation, we find solace.

One thought on “Corona Bubble

  1. The link is wonderful. I especially loved: ‘A pound sign at the very beginning of the line says each time I encounter an “F,” I will have to actually play the key to the right of it. It’s like reading a recipe, but you have to remember that each time you read “knife” they actually mean “fresh pepper.” ’

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