Five, six, seven, eight ... forty four, forty five, forty six, forty seven ... I keep counting. I count the seconds by listening to the wall clock, sometimes I lose myself in other noises, the fan, the cricket, the breaths but I come back and I count, again and again and again not remembering exactly from where to restart. Numbers are so cruel and so fascinating. They never stop. You can count, count and count. The steps, the seconds, the bugs, the bees, the fallen leaves and those that are on the trees, and definitely the days. The numbers never stop, nor does the counting. You are amidst a pandemic, you suffer for you don't know whom and all you do is you count, you don't know where's the end, and if there's an end at all ... Maybe there is, maybe there is not. So you count, I count too. We all count, for different reasons, for different purposes and for different days.