Ennui: dissatisfaction, self-absorbed and world-weary. After 6 months of the pandemic, I'm at the stage of unrelenting, mind-numbing tedium. For example, I haven’t seen a soul outside of my household for the last week or so, except for passersby during walks. No one to observe, to chat with, to while away time with meaningfully. If I wasn’t an atheist, I’d go to mass, to bask vicariously in the force of other people’s faith. So, just work, the latest confirmed cases, the current political scandal, the question of what we’re having for dinner, and, god, telly.

Only a storm shakes things up: the woods are dark, and the river is high beneath boiling clouds. A dog, wild for this moment, careens around corners and tumbles into the grassy verges of the path strewn with broken branches. When the world feels most real, outside of screens and social media feeds rife with conspiratorial memes. Alive, alive, alive.

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