![]() Sitting at a bar surrounded by friends and waiting for a cocktail to arrive, she felt a tinge of dissatisfaction: “It was wonderful, but it also had that pang you get when fantasy meets with reality – that this is nice, but it also just ‘is.’” I was compelled to write this piece after hearing from an editor in late March, who described to me a feeling of ennui she was experiencing just as lockdown restrictions were lifting. It’s an unfamiliar feeling, but even more within our grasp during these warmer months, as people move outside and the once-grey streets of winter become lively again. Those of us privileged enough to push it to the back of our minds all participate in a wobbly fantasy that things are back to normal. The term “postpandemic” gets thrown around, but feels flimsy. ![]() ![]() Memories of the long winter feel distant as we bathe freely in the afternoon sun. The heat has settled as though it’s always been here. Marlowe Granados is the author of Happy Hour. ![]()
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