DAY_3
A boil notice was issued.
We set buckets beneath the dripping tub faucet, cycling out the full with the
empty in preparation for the moment that the water stops running altogether.
Even when properly boiled the water tastes strange in a way that only adds to
our uneasiness. Tea can only conceal so much.
Bathing happens in pieces. The bathroom is too poorly insulated to undress all
at once.
Instead, we dip a washcloth in boiled water and run it along however much of our
bodies we can bear to expose at a time. It’s the only part of the day that
brings any fleeting warmth.
Winter Log / Summer Log by Nastasya Kistemaker, page 4