Wednesday, April 1, 2020

On the pale bricks, a quilted pattern of multi-colored chalk forms words I frequently hear and see: “This too shall pass.” They span most of the width of the pedestrian street. At the center, much smaller, in black, is the tag “#COVID19.” This must have been drawn in the early morning. It wasn’t affected by the rain that fell just before dawn, knocking out my internet access and, briefly, electricity. On the way to work, I only see two boxes on the wall. I look behind them to see if the third has fallen and to put it back up if it is there, but it isn’t. Heading home after work, I pass few people. Some keep a careful distance from others. Some cluster together. Outside the produce store, three young women embrace then walk away from one another. A teenage girl sits on the steps to an apartment house near the wall with the boxes. A boy sits on the sidewalk in front of her, their feet touching. I pass a few more pieces of paper taped to poles, low to the ground. It has gotten too dark for me to read them. On the pedestrian street, I see that the chalk art is gone.