We haven’t slept well since March. We try to catch a moment’s break, after making lunch, in between Zoom school sessions and our own work, but it slips through our fingers, a specter fading fast, as young voices ring out with questions and requests. Maybe later, with a glass of wine.
Women at mid-life. Women on the edge.
When does the collective wail of the majority get to drown out the rantings of the minority? When do our healthcare workers get uninterrupted, unbiased time on every network, in every news outlet to tell their stories, to tell the unvarnished truth? How will we ever make amends to the families of the dead, to the millions unemployed, to the small businesses that have closed, to the school children, because of the country’s leaders’ utter failure to lead?