Uncontrollable Events Have Delayed Delivery

Illustration by Alessandro Gottardo

I stand at the sink of our micro kitchen and scream a scream of grief rent physical until I can’t scream anymore. It’s one week before the 2020 election, and amid surging coronavirus and the prospect of a political coup, my package is lost in transit. I’d like to say it’s a trigger for all the stress and anxiety of this past year, the isolation and protests and political corruption and fear and death, but my lost package is just a trigger for itself. The dogs hide cowering in the bedroom and the cats are nonplussed. If Amy was home she’d probably find it grounds for divorce. “The animals are terrified of you,” she’d say, “and I just don’t like you like this.”

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