Another late night, another return from work, another exhausted walk naked from garage to shower.

9 months later and this pandemic isn’t close to being over; long enough for a baby to be born but not for a demon to be destroyed.

9 months of solitude and sorrow, spliced with joy and family.

9 months of being forced into a real, tight, exclusionary nuclear family.

9 months of being hugged and touched only by the three I love most, but distanced from the others I love equally strongly.

When will this end?