So Long to a Sorry Year by Barbara Kazdan I feel blah. Not sad. Not anything. Think I’ve depleted my reserve of good cheer. Which for me is saying a lot. All […]
Dispatch #084
SF Creative Writing Institute
Dispatch #083
Third Wave by Brenda Gunn I stare at the sock and dust bunny peeking from just far enough under the couch; a solo Cheerio, strayed somehow from the breakfast table almost made […]
Dispatch #082
Dispatches Update By Alexandra Kostoulas Well, dear readers. Here I am. Back again after a long hiatus. I keep not adding to this blog. Keep hoping that the pandemic will be over […]
Dispatch #081
The evolution, April by J.I. Kleinberg For a while, in the first months of the pandemic, you feared your hands: that they might be the engine of your destruction, grab from the […]
Dispatch #080
The Revolt of the Homeless by Gary Beck The young patrol officer and the tired, cynical Sergeant slowly herded the homeless off the subway car. The young officer kept saying: “C’mon guys. […]
We Were Awarded a California Arts Council Local Impact Grant
Dear Readers, I’m pleased to announce that San Francisco Creative Writing Institute just received a Local Impact Award from the California Arts Council. State funds will support Dispatches from Quarantine: A literary blog […]
Dispatch #079
The Waiting Room by K.R. Morrison Sleeping awake in dream, I visited the waiting room of those always socially distanced One crew of ancestor slaves baked a cake for Saturn laughing they […]
Dispatch #078
Hallelujah by Rowena Choy Henry On the night before his inauguration I watched President-elect Biden and his wife and Vice President-elect Harris and her husband attend a ceremony at the Lincoln Memorial […]
Dispatch #077
Shadow by Mir Yashar Seyedbagheri Phil sees his shadow. I see shadows too. Older sisters, mothers, smiles, and hugs over Zoom. Shadows of I-love-yous, words crackling, and promises to see each other […]
Dispatch #076
Winter 2021 Alien Nations by Gerard Sarnat i. Otherness Plague tanka Entering Year II, mid-septuagenarian’s grown weary spending precious time sequestered — not hugging/ kissing loved, dying. * ii. West […]
Dispatches from Quarantine 
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