A century spent at home, no just a month, and not just any but the holy month. And it has been quite the cleansing, eating the bread my mother forms into moon and we tear into crescents along its nearly perforated circumscribed circles. But these days, the sun hardly sets and our stomachs claw for more by midday.
And my morning everyone is gone to school, to work, and I feel like everyone's housewife, shuffling about aimlessly or else settling in before some glowing screen before realizing that hours have passed. And it's been a century since I watched television so there is a lot I have missed, its invention, progression, deterioration--and in this last stride I find myself so intrigued by county fair carnival that it has become. Watching little people test drive cars or mean teens shovel cow manure is the sort of base entertainment that comes with basic cable--and we have, of course, much more than that, a whole world honed into the single cone that hangs off the roof of the house as if to intercept aliens, and it does…
