T is for Thursday, upright on calendar, certain as February. Events aren’t so organised, conversations chain react. A difficulty and their words take up expanding analysis, sting later with why and what to do. A president finds the world’s a mess, so what’s with him? A virus has struck home, no name for said virus, call it Seven Days. Nor can things decide to be hot or cold. U is for Unsleeping, where the spiritual exercise of abstinence, beatitude, calm, discernment, empathy has gone round past zeal a few times, then sleep so deep even dreams don’t intervene with pseudo-Thursday.