Thursday, April 23, 2020

At work, the bosses serve ice cream pops and talk about the virus. More people are there today. Some stay behind closed doors in the offices of people who are working from home. The rest of us mill about, working in individual cubes and keeping a proper distance. The whole talk is in Hebrew. I understand most of it, as I now understand most of the conversations about our work. Later, I ask my boss about one point that I couldn’t follow. On the way home, I once again see pairs of runners and children with cones and ice cream sandwiches. A powered scooter, the first I’ve seen in a month, zooms past me on a small street. Two boys on foot-powered scooters follow, rolling down the center of the road. Another person has joined the athletic woman in doing implausible exercises. A large dog, off-leash, trots up to me and sniffs my hands, then runs back to its human. I see one new sign along the way. Inch-tall letters, drawn in black crayon on white paper, spell out English words: “Here comes the sun.”