To the Feast – In Oil

Oh how I miss this: the fizzy sensation of an event, the gentle flirtation of a new friend, the ability to stand that close to someone who doesn’t share a home with me ….

I miss the possibility of connection with new people and the physical connection with the people I know. And, to be thorough, the possibility of physical connection with new people.

I miss hugs and hand holding.

I miss arriving at a friend’s house for DnD, everyone arriving at the same time carrying bags of chips and hummus and six-packs of beer – the cacophony of greetings and laughter. The hugs. The anticipation of being in communion with them, sharing space and recycled air and our greatest fear being what our DM has in store for us.

I just found out, a moment ago, that we were exposed to Covid on Monday … maskless and within our planned and well managed ‘bubble’. We are officially ‘close contacts’. And Thanksgiving is four days away.

I wasn’t planning to see my family or a big dinner, but we were hoping my eldest could come eat at the other end of our very very long table. That seems unwise now.

I am very tired.

Prints available here:

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