Saturday, September 26
The first of the leaves falling. It’s a month now since they took Molly to the hospital. I often catch myself unconsciously weeping.
Wednesday, November 4
Frost came early this year. When the electricity is on I try to warm myself. There’s the gas range, but the ration box is late again so nothing to cook.
Friday, January 8
I kept the holidays by avoiding them, draped in black as though they were mirrors in a mourning household.
Thursday March 11
Has it only been a year?
Friday May 1
The armored trucks now broadcast news through loudspeakers in the president’s voice.
For those who asked for a longer version, I have an expanded version I wrote for Prose Magazine.