not going back

We must imagine Sisyphus happy.

A character speaks after the first few months of the pandemic. (May 2020)

If there is any dust left over from the covid pandemic, much of it is dust swept under the rug. More neglected dust of our lives, neglected for the sake of a brand-new fantasy, or at least it pretends to be new. It is actually tired and old, repetitive and cruel, and dusty itself but will not admit it.

Feel free to share this, especially if you feel that we are in a perpetual spinning machine, burying us along with all of its dust as it spins along.

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