Tuesday, April 28, 2020

The sirens sound at 11 AM. All conversations in the office stop. Those of us who are standing around remain in place, heads bowed. Those who are sitting stand. A worker in the aisle takes a few more steps and puts his coffee down on the wall of the nearest cube. I hear at least three distinct sirens this time. All of the sound comes in through one open window so I don’t have a sense of location, but it pulses with beats caused by not quite identical pitches. Last year on Memorial Day, the staff went to a ceremony at the graveyard next door. I missed it. I had been in the restroom when everyone left. No one realized that I wouldn’t know where they were going. Today, there is no ceremony. We stay in the office. Civilian cemeteries are open, but we’re asked not to cluster together in them. We all leave work by 5 PM. After that, no one may travel between cities. Last year, I filmed the crowds at the evening’s celebrations downtown. Tonight, I will go home. I will eat a hamburger. I will watch TV.