My Pandemic Journal two years ago today. Once upon a time.

Emerald City. Day 78. ...I think.

Today I sat at my bedroom window. I put a lot of work into it. A pre-war apartment. Lots of woodwork and stone. Plastering painting bringing more order into the world.

However.

In addition to the sickness in my building. The deaths here, and on my block. The 100,000 souls lost in this republic to the Virus. * ...the number 10 times more since.

Then our Race War re-ignites. * ...it burns still.

There's the constant sound of ambulances and helicopters all day every day.

So I sat my ladder paints, and brushes ready.

Shadows move across the floor. Night comes curtains billow.