One of the reasons I selected the phrase I blame the quarantine for this project is that the quarantine is what fiction writers call a crucible, any external circumstance that heightens tension.
Time is often a crucible: 24 hours before the asteroid hits our planet; we have to build the asteroid destroyer FAST!
Setting is one too: A soon-to-be divorced couple gets stuck in an elevator between floors on the way to the lawyers’ office. “Why do you always have to push the button twice, always, always, always. Push, push, push. Well, you pushed me, didn’t you? Now look at us!”
Crucibles contain and tighten, things bubble and simmer, steam and stoke until BOOM! Shatter from the tension.
I don’t blame the quarantine for our country’s current shattering. A crucible takes time to build, and what’s happening now has been a long time coming, a long time contained — cities, civilization, citizens — smoldering, smoking, gasping for breath.
Gasping.
I wish peace to the families of those suffering under this new crisis. There will be many suffering. I weep for you and wish you well.
Here are some stories.
–KLB
