I am his love slave. The singular reason for my existence is to serve his every need. He wakes me at 3 in the morning to rub his belly. At 3 in the afternoon I’m lulled to sleep by the sound of his purr. He stretches fully his arms raised above his head sighing in delight.

My mobile rings. I jump embarrassed to be caught sleeping mid day. I answer and confess to Valeria I was in bed. “You want? I call you later? “ she asks in that Italian way of hers. And I say “No No, It’s just... I think I’m losing track of time. Time has no meaning.”

She pulls the phone away from her face to show the wall behind her is also her headboard “E' Normale! How could we not lose time?”

Her son Sebastiano races into the room asking me “Hai visto il mio robot?” as he thrusts in front of the camera a robot made from cardboard boxes with giant round eyes exaggerated into disbelief. “Bravo!” I praise. “It’s amazing!”

The robots googly eyes implore, “How the hell did I become a cardboard box? “ He looks at me same way my goldfish Frank Jr Jr inquires with urgency, “Did you know we have cats in this house? It’s not safe. I tell you. It’s not safe.” He swishes his tail. He is also alone in his fish bowl. His a punishment - solitary confinement since he ate his partner Frank Sinatra Jr. I can’t blame him really. We all occasionally want to bite the head off our lover.

Confinement has me thinking about past loves. Ex-boyfriends have started texting. The whole of Italy is horny it seems.The attention might be flattering if the messages didn’t read as a copy & paste.

Since my husband and I separated 5 years ago I felt his absence like a phantom leg after amputation. Loneliness was a relentless companion - and yet, ironically now that I am alone in quarantine - his ghost has left me. I am Alone.

And I am discovering I’m good company. I am a great date by the way. And I don’t even have to shave my legs. I heard myself singing in the kitchen as I did dishes cleaning up from making Cacio e Pepe that itlalian dish of cracked pepper, Grana Padano and Pecorino served over a tagliolini. An Italian version of an American Mac and cheese.

I looked around for who was singing and realized- it’s me. Just me