covid, day the 4th
If I had a garret, a drafty, unheated, freezing upper-room sort of garret, I would be writing this there. The sickness is settling in in new ways--I feel I may be coughing by morning. I am too tired. But have done useful things. In spite of it. Not many, but a few. Tomorrow may be a day of nothing. Null and void as though God has turned his face away from the waters of my garret-tomb. Or I may be smiled…