I’m no good at masturbating. For me, sex has always been about two, of the hunt or being hunted, of being desired, of falling headfirst into the abyss of the other.

Thinking at the anatomical level about the potential scourge of pathogens and parasites has led me to conclude that my physical body is more discerning and intelligent than any so-called “thinking” person, much less any government.

A Coronavirus novel, in theory, brings a quotidian narrative to epidemic literature. This is not a story of a select few but rather of everyone; not only lives but livelihoods.