RIP Sirius Black and James Potter, you two would have loved pranking your professors during the pandemic by saying they were “muted”.

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RIP Sirius Black and James Potter, you two would have loved pranking your professors during the pandemic by saying they were “muted”.
"They picture you a man atop a board, atop a barrel, gun in hand, aiming as you roll and tither to and fro."
Quarantine
by Eavan Boland
In the worst hour of the worst season of the worst year of a whole people a man set out from the workhouse with his wife. He was walking — they were both walking — north.
She was sick with famine fever and could not keep up. He lifted her and put her on his back. He walked like that west and west and north. Until at nightfall under freezing stars they arrived.
In the morning they were both found dead. Of cold. Of hunger. Of the toxins of a whole history. But her feet were held against his breastbone. The last heat of his flesh was his last gift to her.
Let no love poem ever come to this threshold. There is no place here for the inexact praise of the easy graces and sensuality of the body. There is only time for this merciless inventory:
Their death together in the winter of 1847. Also what they suffered. How they lived. And what there is between a man and woman. And in which darkness it can best be proved.
"Quarantine Dreams" ☾ Nathalie Cohen aka Amnesia123 ⌂ Four walls and one moon
The Mondays.
INTRUDER
by Palamarchuk Mikhail
at a very alex g point of my life