The swimming pool of the Zarzuela Palace | Madrid

In the darkest hours of confinement someone said that the smell of his newly chlorinated street had made him vaguely think of a swimming pool. We were submerged in the abyssal depths of phase zero and the headlines said things like “The funeral homes in Madrid begin to incinerate bodies 400 kilometers from the capital.” Our lives had been trapped in a domestic limbo where not even sleeping could get us out …

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