Nine roommates, scraping just below the county’s gathering limits, testing the frontiers of communal Covid living. Camping in the backyard, exchanging baby pictures over wine, practicing handstands against the fridge as others weave past flailing bodies. Family dinners, followed by an orchestrated dance, loading the dishwasher and sweeping the crevice beneath the oven. Richard wipes down the table. Torn apart by Settlers of Catan and reunited by apologetic baking. Solitary walks around the neighborhood each day, yet we pass one another along the sidewalk, grinning at our delicate balance.

[submitted on 5/8/2020]