Monday, March 30, 2020

On my way to work, I see a handwritten sign on an electrical tower, blurred by rain. In large letters, it says “Ay yi yi yi. The world is happy. The world is shining. The world forgets.” Or maybe the middle phrase is “The world is screaming.” The handwriting is odd. I show people a photo of it. Each has a different reading. Below that, smaller letters, possibly written by someone else, say “Everything will be OK.” On the next block, three cardboard boxes rest on a brick wall. Each bears a sign, drawn by a child. The sign in the center, surrounded by colorful diamonds, says “You will be healthy and happy.” To the left: “Don’t worry. It will be OK.” To the right, again, “It will be OK.” At the office, the man in the cube across from mine is moving slowly. He admits that he isn’t feeling well. Much of the rest of the team (not the bosses, who aren’t there yet) surround him and order him to go home. He does. Another worker announces that she will disinfect everything he touched. He didn’t have symptoms I recognize as the virus, but everyone is being careful. My hands are dry and itching from all the handwashing. I’ve left my skin lotion at home. I go down to the near-empty supermarket and get another tube of it, which I’ll keep in my desk drawer. The cafe across from the market is dark, but a new handwritten sign says that they are now delivering. On my way home, I see a large banner suspended from the porch of an apartment above a silent traffic circle. It, too, looks like it was made by children. It, too, has bright letters and a rainbow. It, too, says “Everything will be OK.”