The day ever so bleak in darkness as the air pushes against the charcoal black curtains. To block out the light during mid-day in June, if you must ask. The cool air pushes against my face as the humming of the air-conditioniner marches on. The cats run through the room casting shadows on the buttermilk white walls. A single light in the room, ever so tiny yet enough to remind the hope that still exists. My skin pressed against the blankets, clinging on to the warmth. It feels like winter, yet far from it. The slow blinking light of a laptop put to sleep, waiting to run its computations in ones and zeros. On and off, yes and no, if only life were so simple. My thoughts bounce back and forth, never finding a landing. My cat jumps in the bed, purring louder than the noise from the air-conditioning. He comforts me as he sees the gloom in my eyes. Jumping into my blanket he finds solidarity, just as I do. We sit there thinking of the possibility of what hope we have. The sounds of the cars passing by make it seem like life is normal again. Yet the pandemic has caused my reality to shift, in my room I wait. The time will come when the choices to be made will be in the Sun. Where I can lay in the grass and gather the warmth to my soul. Where I can sit in the rain and feel every drop of rain crash against my skin. Someday soon. For now I will be like ice, waiting to be melted and flow once more.