My city feels strangely still right now. I normally hear the sounds from the elementary school nearby, or people walking their dogs, the swish of cars driving by on the street. But it’s oddly quiet at the moment, the only sound the squawking from a few irritable crows whose life mission is to make sure I wake up at some ungodly hour and to interrupt any coherent thoughts I have during the day.
I live in Seattle, the epicenter of the U.S. Coronavirus outbreak. My town has, over the last week, folded in on itself, a slow-motion capture of an amoeba being poked, only with more panicked trips to Costco (I’m bad at analogies.)
Locally, Seattle Public Schools have been canceled for the next two weeks. Big employers are telling people to work from home. Restaurants are closing by the dozens – and Asian restaurants in particular are being brutally