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DAY 39: TOTAL CONFIRMED DEATHS 183,454 WORLDWIDE


She tried some banana bread rage-baking.

She didn’t really have rage per se, but her bananas were blackened and she didn’t want them to go to waste.

The previous rage-cleaning made it easier to cook, as she could actually see her counter-tops. She found she could move slowly. There was no rush now, no deadlines. Just this lingering time. Usually, she was a sloppy cook, but now she took the time to organize her ingredients and instruments before actually getting started.

Who was she?

She laughed.

There was something magically about the smell of baking bread filling the house. Just just sat in the aroma. She wasn’t even hungry.

Did they make candles with this scent? She wondered.

As she sat there in her aromatic privilege, she thought about all the families that lost their income, who were on their last pennies, wondering what the next day would bring. There was news that small businesses hadn’t received the relief funds from the government, while big companies banked millions. Workers were denied their funds because of being married to an undocumented person. Immigration was stopped, under the guise of helping combat the virus. The Orange Leader was using this global crisis to the rich, and to push an agenda of hate.

Things were fucking bad.

She was starting to understand the mass bakings, the lack of flour or sugar in the stores, the run on chocolate chips.

It was something one could do. Something to create. And the aroma was like a warm blanket one could wrap their house in to insulate it from the harsh, stifling reality.

She pulled the invisible blanket tighter around her, and closed her eyes.

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