Corona Diaries: Does my sweat make flowers bloom?

by Gloria Stay

I’m quite a lady, or as my friend Uhlàlà would say: a chochotte. I remember asking her what it meant and what I could gather from her explanation was that it’s a term used to bring endearing ridicule to someone who is sophisticated but in a slightly strenuous way, someone who is particular about things and also a bit boujee and extra at times in quite an interesting or maybe even intriguing manner. Uhlàlà said, it’s especially funny calling me a ‘chochotte’ because people wouldn’t necessarily expect me to be one. I’m not really sure what she wanted to insinuate at the time. Continue Reading

Corona Diaries

by Anne Isakowitsch

The boy is four years old. He enjoys nothing more than being at home. Since he no longer goes to kindergarten, his nightmares have stopped. He has fewer tantrums and seems…happier. At daycare he suffers from the toxic masculinity of his peers: who is stronger, who can jump further, who wins, who is the best, the best, the best. Continue Reading

Corona Diaries: Pandemic Poetics / Fuck This

by Ola Kamińska


Week four of staying inside: I exchange flowers with my friend Ania. She borrowed our car yesterday and I was able to finally make my childhood dream come true, giving her the keys by slowly lowering them on a very thin rope. I must have read that in one of Astrid Lindgren’s Bullerbyn stories or some other book from primary school: kids exchanging gifts in a basket traveling between windows on a ribbon. Today, she brings the keys back. I don’t want to lower an empty rope, so I tie a small yellow flower to it. It’s windy and I live on the second floor. The keys come back after a minute, with a red tulip attached, almost as if we had agreed to this exchange earlier. Continue Reading

Corona Diaries

by Ricky Clark

I stood on the corner of Charlottenstraße wearing a white hoody and bright yellow washing-up gloves, handing out postcards that read something along the lines of:

Your favourite vegan café is still open! You will not go hungry with us! (psst – Please come. We’re desperate to keep our jobs so bring your friends. You can’t sit inside. No. Or use the loo either but please come. Your cash is not welcome. Please bring a card.) Continue Reading

Corona Diaries: Toilet Paper Candles

by Karini Viranna

It’s Thursday. April 9, 2020. My birthday is in 25 days which Facebook reminds me. “Which charity do I want to donate too?” I’m newly separated from my husband. Newly, as in a few days before the quasi-lockdown in Berlin. We shared our birthdays together. I used to hate birthdays. I think you hate it when your father never shows up and you’re 4, then 8, then 16. But then my husband’s was the day after mine. They became fun. This will be my first birthday alone. My dearest friends have already suggested a Zoom call. I am excited for them. Continue Reading


by Jane Flett

Strange ways to pass the time. I write a letter to all the television characters
who haven’t got the memo yet. Listen up! I scrawl to a girl hollering pints in a pub
so packed there are other humans there, but that’s as far as I get. I want to remind
her the future will make this moment seem like such crazed & delinquent abandon
but the impulse makes me feel like a snitch. I write a letter to God instead.
Dear God have you considered investing in video conferencing
& do you think this season will be your most critically acclaimed? Continue Reading