“Those years are a dark smear across my memory. Everything feels blurry and hollow. Plague drains not only victims but whole cities of life. It freezes trade, decays parishes, forbids lovemaking, turns childrearing into a dance with death. Most of all, it steals time. Days boarded up in sick houses or clean, pass in a swirl of flat gray. Plague time is different. It stretches and looms.”
Book:A Dowry of Blood