Journal of the Plague Year, Day Three Hundred Forty One: What could go wrong? Damn, I did not just say that.
Someday I will stop moving. Today is not that day. Tomorrow isn’t either. It doesn’t look good for Saturday. It is theoretically possible, though not likely, that I could be done moving on Sunday night, and settle into a nice routine of enjoying my new home rather than living in a warehouse for small cardboard […]