New fiction: “Although everyone is behind on everything, they feel sure that they are a little more behind than everyone else.” From the magazine’s Decameron Project.
Decameron Project. New fiction: “Everyone had left the city — except for the woman on the 14th floor.” From the magazine’s Decameron Project. By New fiction: “A hundred twenty days have passed since someone last touched you.” From the magazine’s Decameron Project. I wanted to believe him.” From the magazine’s Decameron Project. Between them lay a gentle hatred.” From the magazine’s Decameron Project. By New fiction: “Two people in what looked like spacesuits had wheeled him inside.” From the magazine’s Decameron Project. But I’m not letting myself be fooled.” From the magazine’s Decameron Project. By New fiction: “He didn’t like to talk about his brother much in those days. By New fiction: “Although everyone is behind on everything, they feel sure that they are a little more behind than everyone else.” From the magazine’s Decameron Project. Yet they all came with some complications.” From the magazine’s Decameron Project. | New fiction: “The world came to a screeching halt, and so did your good feelings about it being a worthy endeavor.” From the magazine’s Decameron Project. New fiction: “Even before the accident that stopped Time, it had been quite a week.” From the magazine’s Decameron Project. By New fiction: “Dogs, big or small, mongrel or pedigree, had the run of the town.” From the magazine’s Decameron Project. It was the Teamwork being done by the whole new world, all those not directly affected, to watch and wait, to stay put, it would be a marathon, all this isolation, but it was the only way the Team could make it, humans, the whole damn race. Time slipped that way lately, as if behind a curtain then back out again as something else, here as an internet hole, there as a walk on your street you insisted on calling a hike with your
New fiction: “Although everyone is behind on everything, they feel sure that they are a little more behind than everyone else.” From the magazine’s Decameron Project.
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The Decameron Project
Alejandro Zambra: ‘Screen Time,’ a Short Story
ByAlejandro ZambraJuly 7, 2020
The Decameron Project
New Fiction
Many times over his two years of life, the boy has heard laughter or cries coming from his parents’ bedroom. It’s hard to know how he would react if he ever found out what his parents really do while he’s asleep: watch TV.
He’s never watched TV or anyone watching TV, so his parents’ television is vaguely mysterious to him: Its screen is a sort of mirror, but the image it reflects is opaque, insufficient, and you can’t draw on it in the steam, though sometimes a layer of dust allows for similar games.
Still, the boy wouldn’t be surprised to learn that this screen reproduces images in movement. He is occasionally allowed to see other people on screens, most often people in his second country. Because the boy has two countries: his mother’s, which is his main country, and his father’s, which is his secondary country. His father doesn’t live there, but his father’s parents do, and they’re the people the boy sees most often onscreen.
He has also seen his grandparents in person, because the boy has traveled twice to his second country. He doesn’t remember the first trip, but by the second he could walk and talk himself blue in the face, and those weeks were unforgettable, though the most memorable event happened on the flight there, when a screen that seemed every bit as useless as his parents’ TV lit up, and suddenly there was a friendly red monster who referred to himself in the third person. The monster and the boy were immediate friends, perhaps because back then the boy also talked about himself in the third person.

The meeting was fortuitous,really, because the boy’s parents didn’t plan to watch TV during the trip. The flight began with a couple of naps, and then his parents opened the little suitcase that held seven books and five zoomorphic puppets, and a long time was spent on the reading and immediate rereading of those books, punctuated by insolent comments from the puppets, who also gave their opinions on the shapes of the clouds and the quality of the snacks. Everything was going swimmingly until the boy asked for a toy that had chosen to travel — his parents explained — in the hold of the plane, and then he remembered several others that — who knows why — had decided to stay in his main country. Then, for the first time in six hours, the boy burst into tears that lasted a full minute, which isn’t a long time, but, to a man in the seat behind them, seemed very long indeed.
“Make that kid shut up!” bellowed the man.
The boy’s mother turned around and looked at him with serene contempt, and, after a well-executed pause, she lowered her gaze to stare fixedly between his legs and said, without the slightest trace of aggression:
“Must be really tiny.”
The man apparently had no defense against such an accusation and didn’t reply. The boy — who had stopped crying by then — moved to his mother’s arms, and then it was the father’s turn. He also knelt in his seat to stare at the man; he didn’t insult him, but merely asked his name.
“Enrique Elizalde,” said the man, with the little dignity he had left.
“Thanks.”
“Why do you want to know?”
“I have my reasons.”
“Who are you?”
“I don’t want to tell you, but you’ll find out. Soon you’ll know full well who I am.”
The father glared several more seconds at the now-remorseful or desperate Enrique Elizalde, and he would have kept it up except that a bout of turbulence forced him to refasten his seatbelt.
“This jerk thinks I’m really powerful,” he murmured then, in English, which was the language the parents used instinctively now to insult other people.
“We should at least name a character after him,” said the mother.
“Good idea! I’ll name all the bad guys in my books Enrique Elizalde.”
“Me too! I guess we’ll have to start writing books with bad guys,” she said.
And that was when they turned on the screen in front of them and tuned in to the show of the happy, hairy red monster. The show lasted 20 minutes, and when the screen went dark, the boy protested, but his parents explained that the monster’s presence wasn’t repeatable, he wasn’t like books, which could be read over and over.
During the three weeks they were in his secondary country, the boy asked about the monster daily, and his parents explained that he only lived on airplanes. The re-encounter finally came on the flight home, and it lasted another scant 20 minutes. Two months later, since the boy still spoke of the monster with a certain melancholy, they bought him a stuffed replica, which in his eyes was the original itself. Since then the two have been inseparable: In fact, right now, the boy has just fallen asleep hugging the red plush toy, while his parents have retired to the bedroom, and surely they will soon turn on the TV. There’s a chance, if things go as they usually do, that this story will end with the two of them watching TV.

The boy’s fathergrew up with the TV always on, and at his son’s age he was possibly unaware that the television could even be turned off. His mother, on the other hand, had been kept away from TV for an astonishing 10 years. Her mother’s official version was that the TV signal didn’t reach as far their house on the outskirts of the city, so that the TV seemed to the girl a completely useless object. One day she invited a classmate over to play, and without asking anyone the friend simply plugged in the TV and turned it on. There was no disillusionment or crisis: The girl thought the TV signal had only just reached the city’s periphery. She ran to relay the good news to her mother, who, though she was an atheist, fell to her knees, raised her arms to the sky and shouted histrionically, persuasively, “It’s a MIRACLE!”
In spite of these very different backgrounds, the couple are in complete agreement that it’s best to put off their son’s exposure to screens as long as possible. They’re not fanatics, in any case, they’re not against TV by any means. When they first met, they often employed the hackneyed strategy of meeting up to watch movies as a pretext for sex. Later, in the period that could be considered the boy’s prehistory, they succumbed to the spell of many excellent series. And they never watched as much TV as during the months leading up to the birth of their son, whose intrauterine life was set not to Mozart symphonies or lullabies but rather to the theme songs of series about bloody power struggles in an unspecified ancient time of zombies and dragons, or in the spacious government house of the self-designated “leader of the free world.”
When the boy was born, the couple’s TV experience changed radically. At the end of the day their physical and mental exhaustion allowed only 30 or 40 minutes of waning concentration, so that almost without realizing it they lowered their standards and became habitual viewers of mediocre series. They still wanted to immerse themselves in unfathomable realms and live vicariously through challenging and complex experiences that forced them to seriously rethink their place in the world, but that’s what the books they read during the day were for; at night they wanted easy laughter, funny dialogue and scripts that granted the sad satisfaction of understanding without the slightest effort.

Someday, maybe inone or two years, they plan to spend Saturday or Sunday afternoons watching movies with the boy, and they even keep a list of the ones they want to watch as a family. But for now, the TV is relegated to that final hour of the day when the boy is asleep and the mother and father return, momentarily, to being simply she and he — she, in bed looking at her phone and he, lying face up on the floor as if resting after a round of situps. Suddenly he gets up and lies on the bed, too, and his hand reaches for the remote but changes course, picks up the nail clippers instead, and he starts to cut his fingernails. She looks at him and thinks that lately, he is always clipping his nails.
“We’re going to be shut in for months. He’s going to get bored,” she says.
“They’ll let people walk their dogs, but not their kids,” he says bitterly.
“I’m sure he doesn’t like this. Maybe he doesn’t show it, but he must be having a horrible time. How much do you think he understands?”
“About as much as we do.”
“And what do we understand?” she asks, in the tone of a student reviewing a lesson before a test. It’s almost as if she had asked, “What is photosynthesis?”
“That we can’t go out because there’s a shitty virus. That’s all.”
“That what used to be allowed is now forbidden. And what used to be forbidden still is.”
“He misses the park, the bookstore, museums. Same as we do.”
“The zoo,” she says. “He doesn’t talk about it, but he complains more, gets mad more often. Not much, but more.”
“But he doesn’t miss preschool, not at all,” he says.
“I hope it’s just two or three months. What if it’s more? A whole year?”
“I don’t think so,” he says. He’d like to sound more convinced.
“What if this is our world from now on? What if after this virus there’s another and another?” She asks the question but it could just as well be him, with the same words and the same anxious intonation.
During the day they take turns: One of them watches their son while the other works. They are behind on everything, and although everyone is behind on everything, they feel sure that they’re a little more behind than everyone else. They should argue, compete over which of them has the more urgent and better-paid job, but instead they both offer to watch the boy full time, because that half-day with him is an interval of true happiness, genuine laughter, purifying evasion — they would rather spend the whole day playing ball in the hallway or drawing unintentionally monstrous creatures on the small square of wall where drawing is allowed or strumming guitar while the boy turns the pegs until it’s out of tune or reading stories that they now find perfect, much better than the books they themselves write, or try to. Even if they only had one of those children’s stories, they would rather read it nonstop all day than sit in front of their computers, the awful news radio on in the background, to send reply emails full of apologies for their lateness and stare at the stupid map of real-time contagion and death — he looks, especially, at his son’s secondary country, which of course is still his primary one, and he thinks of his parents and imagines that in the hours or days since he last talked to them they’ve gotten sick and he’ll never see them again, and then he calls them and those calls leave him shattered, but he doesn’t say anything, at least not to her, because she has spent weeks now in a slow and imperfect anxiety that makes her think she should learn to embroider, or at least stop reading the beautiful and hopeless novels she reads, and she also thinks that she should have become something other than a writer; they agree on that, they’ve talked about it many times, because so often — every time they try to write — they’ve felt the inescapable futility of each and every word.
“Let’s let him watch movies,” she says. “Why not? Only on Sundays.”
“At least then we’d know if it’s Monday or Thursday or Sunday,” he says.
“What’s today?”
“I think it’s Tuesday.”
“Let’s decide tomorrow,” she says.
He finishes cutting his nails and looks at his hands with uncertain satisfaction, or maybe as if he had just finished cutting someone else’s nails, or as if he were looking at the nails of a person who just cut their own nails and was asking him, for some reason (maybe because he’s become an expert), for his opinion or approval.
“They’re growing faster,” he says.
“Didn’t you just cut them last night?”
“Exactly, they’re growing faster.” He says this very seriously. “Every night it seems like they’ve grown out during the day. Abnormally fast.”
“I think it’s good for nails to grow fast. Supposedly they grow faster at the beach,” she says, sounding as if she’s trying to remember something, maybe the feeling of waking up on the beach with the sun in her face.
“I think mine are a record.”
“Mine are growing faster, too,” she says, smiling. “Even faster than yours. By noon they’re practically claws. And I cut them and they grow again.”
“I think mine grow faster than yours.”
“No way.”
Then they put their hands together as if they could really see their fingernails growing, as if they could compare speeds, and what should be a quick scene lengthens out, because they let themselves get caught up in the absurd illusion of that silent competition, beautiful and useless, which lasts so long that even the most patient viewer would turn off the TV in indignation. But no one is watching them, though the TV screen is like a camera that records their bodies frozen in that strange and funny pose. A monitor amplifies the boy’s breathing, and it’s the only sound that accompanies the contest of their hands, their nails, a contest that lasts several minutes but not long enough for anyone to win, and that ends, finally, with the longed-for burst of warm, frank laughter that they were really needing.
ScreenTimE
By
Alejandro Zambra
A short story from The New York Times Magazine’s Decameron Project. Translated by Megan McDowell from the Spanish.
Although everyone is behind on everything, they feel sure that they are a little more behind than everyone else.
Illustration byRichard A. Chance
Spot illustrations and lettering bySophy Hollington
—
Alejandro Zambrais the author of “My Documents” and “Multiple Choice,” among other books. He lives in Mexico City.
Richard A. Chanceis an illustrator in New York whose work combines ’80s-inspired airbrush and pastel colors with a focus on popular culture.
Sophy Hollingtonis a British artist and illustrator. She is known for her use of relief prints, created using the process of the linocut and inspired by meteoric folklore as well as alchemical symbolism.
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Credits
Additional design and development byShannon LinandJacky Myint.
The Decameron Project ·
By New fiction: “He didn’t like to talk about his brother much in those days. By Dina Nayeri New fiction: “He didn’t like to talk about his brother much in those days. By Rivka Galchen New fiction: “‘You’re addicted to being awkward,’ his mother said to him that afternoon. By John Wray New fiction: “She used to tell me, ‘If he is going to imagine something, let him imagine his home country.’” From the magazine’s Decameron Project. The show lasted 20 minutes, and when the screen went dark, the boy protested, but his parents explained that the monster’s presence wasn’t repeatable, he wasn’t like books, which could be read over and over. New fiction: “The world came to a screeching halt, and so did your good feelings about it being a worthy endeavor.” From the magazine’s Decameron Project. New fiction: “Even before the accident that stopped Time, it had been quite a week.” From the magazine’s Decameron Project. And they never watched as much TV as during the months leading up to the birth of their son, whose intrauterine life was set not to Mozart symphonies or lullabies but rather to the theme songs of series about bloody power struggles in an unspecified ancient time of zombies and dragons, or in the spacious government house of the self-designated “leader of the free world.” When the boy was born, the couple’s TV experience changed radically. ‘Nothing’s ever your fault.’” From the magazine’s Decameron Project. By New fiction: “No complications, that was how Chrissy thought of clients like them. By New fiction: “Jerry and great-aunt had always agreed on one essential truth, that everything around them needed to crumble.” From the magazine’s Decameron Project. By Dinaw Mengestu New fiction: “Jerry and great-aunt had always agreed on one essential truth, that everything around them needed to crumble.” From the magazine’s Decameron Project. New fiction: “Babies get fevers. She ran to relay the good news to her mother, who, though she was an atheist, fell to her knees, raised her arms to the sky and shouted histrionically, persuasively, “It’s a MIRACLE!” In spite of these very different backgrounds, the couple are in complete agreement that it’s best to put off their son’s exposure to screens as long as possible. During the three weeks they were in his secondary country, the boy asked about the monster daily, and his parents explained that he only lived on airplanes.
##  Although Everyone Is Behind on Everything, They Feel Sure That They Are a Little More Behind Than Everyone Else

The air hung heavy with the weight of unfinished tasks. A collective sigh, barely audible, seemed to emanate from every corner of the city, a symphony of procrastination and self-recrimination.  

It had been a strange time, this era of perpetual catch-up. The world had lurched to a halt, not with a bang, but with a whimper, a slow bleed of normalcy into a state of suspended animation.  

Everyone was behind on everything. Bills piled up like neglected laundry, emails sat unanswered, projects gathered dust. Yet, amidst this universal lag, a peculiar phenomenon emerged: a pervasive sense of personal inadequacy.

"I'm so far behind," Sarah muttered to herself, staring at the overflowing inbox on her laptop.  A wave of anxiety washed over her, a familiar feeling these days. It wasn't just the sheer volume of tasks, but the nagging suspicion that everyone else was somehow managing, effortlessly gliding through their to-do lists while she floundered.

This feeling wasn't unique to Sarah. It permeated conversations, whispered anxieties in crowded cafes (the few that remained open), and echoed in the silent spaces between Zoom calls.

"I feel like I'm drowning in a sea of deadlines," confessed Mark to his friend, his voice laced with exhaustion. "But everyone else seems to be keeping their heads above water."

The irony was palpable. Everyone was drowning, yet each individual felt uniquely submerged, convinced that their struggles were somehow more profound, more insurmountable than those of their peers.

This collective delusion, this shared sense of being uniquely behind, was a curious byproduct of the times. It was a symptom of isolation, of the lack of tangible comparison points. In a world where physical interaction was limited, the only yardstick became the curated, often idealized, versions of reality presented online.

Social media, once a platform for connection, had morphed into a breeding ground for insecurity. Carefully constructed posts showcasing productivity and achievement only served to amplify the feeling of inadequacy.

The truth, however, was far more nuanced. Everyone was struggling, navigating the choppy waters of uncertainty with varying degrees of success. Some days were better than others, some tasks were tackled with gusto, others left languishing.

But the shared experience of being "behind" had inadvertently forged a strange sense of camaraderie. A silent understanding that, despite the individual struggles, they were all in this together, adrift in the same sea of unfinished business.

Perhaps, in this strange new world, the key wasn't to strive for an unattainable state of "caught up," but to find solace in the shared experience of being behind. To acknowledge the collective struggle, to offer a virtual hand to those floundering, and to remember that even in the midst of chaos, there was a strange, comforting sense of unity.



##  Although Everyone Is Behind on Everything, They Feel Sure That They Are a Little More Behind Than Everyone Else

The air hung heavy with a peculiar tension, a shared anxiety that crackled beneath the surface of everyday interactions. It wasn't the fear of the unknown, not anymore. That had faded into a dull ache, a constant hum in the background of their lives. No, this was something different. A gnawing sense of inadequacy, a feeling that they were falling behind, not just in the usual sense of deadlines and chores, but in some deeper, more existential way.

It started subtly. A missed email, a forgotten birthday, a project left unfinished. Then, the whispers began. "Did you see how quickly they adapted?" "They seem to be handling it so much better." "I'm just not keeping up."

The comparisons, once harmless, became barbed arrows, piercing the already fragile sense of self-worth. Everyone was behind on everything, that much was clear. But the insidious whisper, the one that burrowed deep into the subconscious, was that they were *more* behind. More lost. More broken.

The irony was palpable. In a world that had seemingly stopped, the race to catch up had never been more frantic. People were scrambling, desperately trying to prove their worth, their resilience, their ability to thrive in this new, uncertain reality.

But the finish line was nowhere in sight. The rules of the game had changed, and no one knew how to win.

Sarah, a young artist, felt the weight of this invisible pressure acutely. Her canvases lay untouched, the vibrant colors mocking her inability to translate the chaos within onto the pristine surface. "I should be creating something meaningful," she thought, "something that captures this moment in history." But the words wouldn't come, the brushstrokes felt clumsy and inadequate.

Across town, David, a seasoned businessman, stared at his overflowing inbox, a mountain of unread emails a testament to his inability to keep up. He had always prided himself on his efficiency, his ability to juggle multiple projects with ease. Now, even the simplest tasks felt insurmountable.

The shared experience of being behind, of falling short, had created a strange sort of camaraderie. A silent understanding that they were all struggling, all grappling with the same invisible monster.

But the feeling of being *more* behind, of lagging further behind than everyone else, remained a persistent shadow, a constant reminder of their perceived inadequacy.

And so, they pushed on, driven by a desperate need to prove themselves, to catch up to an ever-receding horizon. They were all behind, yes, but the fear of being the furthest behind, the most broken, the most lost, was a burden they carried alone.



## Although Everyone is Behind on Everything, They Feel Sure That They Are a Little More Behind Than Everyone Else

The clock on the microwave blinks 12:00, a mocking reminder of the time that no longer exists.  It’s been 147 days since the world decided to hit pause. 147 days since the emails stopped coming, the meetings were canceled, and the grocery shelves emptied.

Everyone is behind, they say. Behind on deadlines, on rent, on laundry. Behind on life itself. It's the new collective mantra, a shared anxiety whispered on masked faces and typed in frantic online forums.

But there’s a peculiar twist to this collective lag: everyone feels *more* behind than everyone else.

Sarah, hunched over her laptop, stares at the blinking cursor on a half-written article. She’s supposed to be freelancing, but the words feel thick and useless. Everyone else, she imagines, is churning out masterpieces, their productivity soaring in this strange new world. Meanwhile, she’s drowning in a sea of unfinished tasks, a monument to her own inadequacy.

Down the street, David is wrestling with the tangled mess of his overgrown garden. The weeds have taken over, mocking his inability to keep up. He glances enviously at his neighbor’s perfectly manicured lawn, convinced that everyone else has somehow mastered the art of pandemic gardening while he’s stuck in a perpetual state of horticultural chaos.

The irony, of course, is that no one is truly keeping up. Everyone is struggling, stumbling through this uncertain landscape, their internal clocks shattered. Yet, the human mind, wired for comparison, can't help but measure itself against the imagined progress of others.

Perhaps it’s a coping mechanism, a way to rationalize the overwhelming sense of stagnation. Or maybe it’s just another manifestation of the collective anxiety that hangs heavy in the air.

Whatever the reason, the feeling persists: a pervasive sense of being perpetually behind, a silent competition in a race with no finish line.

But maybe, just maybe, there’s another way to look at it. Perhaps this forced pause is an opportunity to redefine progress. To let go of the relentless pursuit of achievement and embrace the slow, deliberate rhythm of simply existing.

Maybe, in this strange, surreal time, being "behind" is not a failure, but a chance to catch our breath, to reconnect with ourselves and the world around us.

And maybe, just maybe, when the world finally starts spinning again, we’ll find that we’re all exactly where we need to be.



## Behind the Curve

The air hung thick with the weight of unspoken anxieties. Everyone was behind on everything, that much was certain. Bills piled up on counters, laundry baskets overflowed, and emails sat unopened, unread, a testament to the ever-growing to-do list that seemed to taunt every waking moment. But what truly gnawed at the collective psyche was not the sheer volume of undone tasks, but the insidious feeling that **they** were further behind than everyone else.

This unspoken competition, this race against an imaginary deadline, fueled a quiet desperation. Conversations, once filled with laughter and easy banter, now carried a subtle undercurrent of anxiety. "How are you holding up?" became a loaded question, a thinly veiled inquiry into the state of one's backlog, a measure of who was winning, or rather, losing, this silent race against time.

The city, once a vibrant tapestry of noise and motion, had transformed into a ghost town of missed appointments and postponed dreams. Shops stood shuttered, their windows displaying the remnants of a life lived at a faster pace. Even the dogs, once eager leash-pullers, seemed to have adopted a melancholic air, their walks now a slow, weary patrol of deserted streets.

A collective sigh seemed to emanate from every corner, a lament for the life that was, a life where "behind" wasn't a badge of shame but merely a temporary state of being. This new reality, this enforced stillness, had revealed the fragility of their perceived control, the illusion of mastery over time itself.

And so, they waited. They waited for the world to catch up, for the gears of normalcy to grind back into motion. They waited for the feeling of being "on time" to return, for the sweet relief of ticking off tasks on a list that seemed to grow longer with each passing day.

They waited, convinced they were further behind than everyone else, each carrying the weight of their own invisible deadline, each hoping, against hope, that they weren't the last ones left behind. 



##  Although everyone is behind on everything, they feel sure that they are a little more behind than everyone else.

The flickering light of the screen cast long shadows across Sarah's face, highlighting the furrow in her brow. Another email, another reminder. "Deadline extended - please submit your revised proposal by Friday."  A wave of familiar despair washed over her. Her inbox was a graveyard of similar messages, each a testament to her insurmountable backlog. *Everyone* was behind, she knew. The news was filled with reports of stalled projects, crumbling deadlines, and the general sense that the world was moving at half-speed, its gears grinding against a pervasive exhaustion.

But the thing was, everyone *felt* like they were falling further behind. There was a shared sense of collective inadequacy, a paranoia that whispered, “I’m not just late, I’m embarrassingly, catastrophically late.”

Sarah scrolled through social media, a morbid mix of curated positivity and thinly veiled desperation. Posts boasted achievements that felt impossible in this new reality - finished novels, successful sourdough loaves, flourishing vegetable gardens. Every picture was a silent accusation, a reminder of Sarah’s own unfinished to-do list, the dust gathering on her neglected hobbies. It was a vicious cycle: the pressure to keep up fuelled the anxiety, which in turn made it harder to actually accomplish anything. 

This wasn't just about productivity; it was about a deeper sense of unease, a fear that she was losing something vital. Time, maybe. Or purpose. Or simply the ability to function in a world that seemed to be moving on without her.

But Sarah wasn’t alone. In this shared struggle, there was a strange comfort. Perhaps, she thought, this collective feeling of falling behind wasn’t a measure of failure, but a sign of our shared human vulnerability. We were all in the same boat, adrift in a sea of uncertainty, desperately trying to keep our heads above water. Maybe, just maybe, acknowledging that we were all a little bit behind wasn't a sign of weakness, but a step towards finding some collective grace in the chaos.



Title: New Fiction: "Although Everyone is Behind, They Feel Sure They're a Little More Behind Than Everyone Else"

The Decameron Project, a collection of new fiction, brings us a thought-provoking and timely piece that explores the human condition during a period of uncertainty and isolation. The story, "Although everyone is behind on everything, they feel sure that they are a little more behind than everyone else," resonates with readers as it captures the collective experience of feeling overwhelmed and anxious in the face of current events.

In the context of the Decameron Project, this narrative is part of a series that delves into the lives of individuals who have been affected by the world coming to a "screeching halt." The characters in these stories are trying to make sense of their new reality, one that is filled with complications and challenges. They are all behind on something, whether it's work, personal goals, or simply keeping up with the news. However, they can't help but feel that they are falling behind more than their peers.

This feeling of inadequacy is not new, but it has been exacerbated by the current situation. The world has changed, and with it, the way people measure success and progress. The traditional markers of achievement, such as a thriving career or a bustling social life, are no longer relevant or attainable for many. Instead, people are left to grapple with a new set of expectations and uncertainties.

The story also highlights the importance of human connection and empathy during difficult times. The characters may feel isolated and alone, but they are all in the same boat. By recognizing this shared experience, they can find solace and comfort in knowing that they are not alone.

Moreover, the Decameron Project as a whole emphasizes the power of storytelling as a means of coping and connecting. Each story offers a unique perspective on the human experience, reminding us that we are all in this together. The project is a testament to the resilience and creativity of the human spirit, even in the face of adversity.

In conclusion, "Although everyone is behind on everything, they feel sure that they are a little more behind than everyone else" is a poignant and relatable story that captures the zeitgeist of our time. It reminds us that we are not alone in our struggles and encourages us to find solace in human connection and empathy. The Decameron Project, as a whole, is a celebration of storytelling and the human spirit, offering a glimmer of hope and positivity in these challenging times.
Title: New Fiction: "Although Everyone is Behind, They Feel Sure They're a Little More Behind Than Everyone Else"

The Decameron Project, a collection of new fiction, brings us a poignant and relatable story that encapsulates the feelings of many during these challenging times. The story revolves around the notion that although everyone is behind on something, they can't help but feel that they're a little more behind than everyone else.

In the context of the Decameron Project, we follow a cast of characters who are all dealing with their own unique struggles and complications. The world has come to a screeching halt, and people are trying to make sense of their new reality. With everyone staying at home, time has taken on a new meaning, and feelings of isolation and uncertainty have become all too common.

The story of "Although everyone is behind, they feel sure they're a little more behind than everyone else" centers around a character who can't help but compare themselves to those around them. They see their friends and neighbors adjusting to the new normal, and yet they can't help but feel that they're falling behind.

This feeling is something that many of us can relate to, especially in times of crisis. We see others coping and adapting, and we can't help but compare ourselves to them. We may feel like we're not doing enough, or that we're not keeping up with those around us.

But the story reminds us that everyone is dealing with their own struggles, even if they don't show it on the surface. We're all behind on something, whether it's work, personal goals, or simply adjusting to a new way of life. And that's okay.

What's important is that we're all in this together, and that we're all doing our best to cope with the challenges that come our way. The Teamwork being done by the whole new world, all those not directly affected, to watch and wait, to stay put, is a marathon, and it's the only way we can make it through.

So let's be kind to ourselves and others, and remember that we're all doing the best we can. We may be behind, but we're all in the same boat, and together, we can get through anything.
Title: "Although Everyone is Behind, They Feel Sure They're a Little More Behind Than Everyone Else: A Decameron Project Story"

The world came to a screeching halt, and so did your good feelings about it being a worthy endeavor. It had been quite a week even before the accident that stopped Time. Dogs, big or small, mongrel or pedigree, had the run of the town. The world was different now, and everyone was behind on everything. But there was a sense that some were a little more behind than others.

Everyone had left the city - except for the woman on the 14th floor. She didn't like to talk about her brother much in those days, but she thought about him often. A hundred twenty days had passed since someone last touched her, and she wanted to believe that things would get better. Yet, she couldn't help but feel that she was a little more behind than everyone else.

The gentle hatred that lay between her and her brother was still there, but it had taken a back seat to the anxiety and uncertainty of the times. Two people in what looked like spacesuits had wheeled him inside, and she had watched from her window as they took him away. She wasn't letting herself be fooled, though. She knew that things were far from over.

As she looked out at the world from her 14th-floor window, she saw the world in a state of limbo. The teamwork being done by the whole new world, all those not directly affected, to watch and wait, to stay put, it would be a marathon, all this isolation. Time slipped that way lately, as if behind a curtain, then back out again as something else. Here as an internet hole, there as a walk on your street, you insisted on calling a hike with your dog.

She knew that she wasn't alone in feeling this way. Although everyone was behind on everything, they felt sure that they were a little more behind than everyone else. And yet, they all came with some complications. The world had changed, and with it, the way people saw themselves and their place in it.

As the woman on the 14th floor looked out at the world, she couldn't help but feel a sense of hope. Although things were far from perfect, she knew that they would get better. It would take time, but with the teamwork being done by the whole new world, all those not directly affected, to watch and wait, to stay put, they would make it through. And when they did, they would be stronger, more united, and more resilient than ever before.
Title: "New Fiction: The Illusion of Catching Up in a World on Pause"

The Decameron Project has brought us another thought-provoking piece of fiction, this time exploring the human tendency to feel behind even when the world itself has come to a screeching halt. The story, "Although everyone is behind on everything, they feel sure that they are a little more behind than everyone else," resonates with the current global situation, where people are isolated in their homes, and time seems to have lost its normal flow.

In this new reality, everyone has left the city, except for the woman on the 14th floor, who is not alone in her feeling of falling behind. A hundred twenty days have passed since someone last touched you, and yet, the need to catch up, to do more, lingers. The protagonist acknowledges the situation but can't help but feel that they are a little more behind than everyone else. This feeling, while irrational, is a testament to the human spirit's relentless pursuit of progress, even in the face of a global pause.

The story also highlights the complications that come with this new way of life. Even before the accident that stopped Time, it had been quite a week. Now, dogs, big or small, mongrel or pedigree, have the run of the town, and the world is watching, waiting, and staying put. This marathon of isolation is the only way the human team can make it, and time slips away in strange ways, hidden behind a curtain, then reappearing as an internet hole or a walk on your street, now called a hike.

Despite the challenges, there is a sense of teamwork in this new world. The whole new world, all those not directly affected, are watching and waiting, doing their part to help the world get back on track. The protagonist, like many of us, is caught between believing in the worthiness of this endeavor and the fear of being fooled. Yet, the story reminds us that this collective effort, this gentle hatred for the situation, is what will see us through.

In conclusion, the Decameron Project's latest fiction piece is a poignant exploration of the human condition during these unprecedented times. It serves as a reminder that while we may feel behind, we are all in this together, and it is the collective effort that will help us catch up and move forward.
Title: "Although Everyone is Behind, They Feel Sure They're a Little More Behind Than Everyone Else"

The Decameron Project, a collection of new fiction, brings us a story that explores the human condition during a time of global crisis. The title itself is a reflection of the pervasive feeling of inadequacy and comparison that has become a common thread in our daily lives.

The story is set in a world that has come to a screeching halt. The global crisis has left everyone feeling behind, yet each individual is convinced that they are a little more behind than everyone else. This sense of inadequacy is a universal experience, and the story masterfully captures the nuances of this feeling.

The context of the story is one of isolation and distance. The world has retreated into itself, and people are forced to confront their own fears and insecurities. The Decameron Project's other stories also touch on this theme, with tales of people left behind, touched for the last time 120 days ago, and gentle hatred that exists between people.

The protagonist of our story doesn't like to talk about his brother much in those days. There are complications, and the global crisis has only amplified them. Even before the crisis, it had been quite a week. Yet, amidst all this, dogs, big or small, mongrel or pedigree, had the run of the town.

The story's strength lies in its ability to capture the spirit of the times. It's a reflection of the world coming to terms with a new normal, where isolation is the only way to ensure survival. The Teamwork being done by the whole new world, all those not directly affected, to watch and wait, to stay put, it would be a marathon, all this isolation, but it was the only way the Team could make it, humans, the whole damn race.

The title of the story, "Although Everyone is Behind, They Feel Sure They're a Little More Behind Than Everyone Else," is an apt summation of the human experience during times of crisis. It's a reminder that we are all in this together, yet we can't help but feel that we are falling behind.

In conclusion, the Decameron Project's new fiction offers a poignant and thought-provoking look at the human experience during a global crisis. "Although Everyone is Behind, They Feel Sure They're a Little More Behind Than Everyone Else" is a standout story that masterfully captures the nuances of isolation, comparison, and the human spirit.
In the latest installment of the New York Times Magazine's Decameron Project, a new piece of fiction explores the universal feeling of being overwhelmed and behind schedule in our fast-paced world. The story captures a sentiment that has become increasingly prevalent, especially in the wake of global events that have disrupted our normal routines and expectations.

The narrative begins with the observation, "Although everyone is behind on everything, they feel sure that they are a little more behind than everyone else." This powerful opening line sets the tone for a tale that delves into the shared anxiety of modern life, where the pressure to keep up with an ever-growing list of tasks and responsibilities seems insurmountable.

The story unfolds in a world where time has become a fickle concept, slipping "behind a curtain then back out again as something else." This surreal depiction of time reflects the disorienting nature of our current reality, where days blend together and the distinction between work and personal life has blurred for many.

The author skillfully weaves together themes of isolation, adaptation, and the collective human experience during challenging times. References to people in "spacesuits," dogs running free in town, and the idea of a "new world" all contribute to an atmosphere of a changed reality – one that feels both familiar and alien.

Throughout the piece, there's an underlying current of resilience and unity. The notion of "Teamwork being done by the whole new world" speaks to the collective effort required to navigate unprecedented circumstances. It highlights how individuals, despite feeling behind and overwhelmed, are part of a larger community all striving to adapt and persevere.

This short fiction serves as a poignant reflection of our times, offering readers a mirror to their own experiences and emotions. It reminds us that while we may feel uniquely burdened by our personal struggles, we are, in fact, part of a shared human experience – all of us trying to make sense of a world that sometimes moves too fast and changes too quickly.

The Decameron Project, inspired by Giovanni Boccaccio's 14th-century work, continues to provide a platform for contemporary writers to explore the complexities of life during extraordinary times. This latest addition to the collection captures the zeitgeist of our era, inviting readers to find solace in the universality of their experiences and the knowledge that they are not alone in feeling a step behind in an ever-accelerating world.
The New York Times' Town Hall was abuzz with excitement as PEN America hosted its prestigious Literary Awards ceremony, honoring both social activism and literary excellence. The event, described by some as "the Oscars for books," brought together a diverse array of writers, editors, translators, and critics to celebrate exceptional voices in literature.

This year's ceremony, hosted at the iconic Town Hall, featured a blend of captivating winner announcements, musical performances directed by Ulysses Owens Jr., and dramatic readings from selected works. The event showcased literature's power to address urgent societal concerns while also celebrating the art of storytelling.

PEN America, known for its commitment to fostering international literature and championing free expression, has been bestowing these awards since 1963. The organization's dedication to promoting diverse voices and catapulting new writers to prominence was evident throughout the evening.

One of the highlights of the ceremony was the recognition of authors who draw from their personal experiences and cultural heritage to create powerful, resonant literature. For instance, one praised writer, the son and grandson of migrant farm workers, was commended for his ability to channel the voices of both the dead and the living in his work.

The judging panels, composed of award-winning literary figures, carefully selected winners across various categories, from debut authors to living legends. This diversity in recognition underscores PEN America's commitment to celebrating the global literary community and introducing promising international writers to American audiences.

As the evening unfolded, it became clear that the PEN America Literary Awards have evolved into more than just a ceremony. The event has become a preeminent gathering of New York City's writing and publishing luminaries, as well as passionate book lovers, all united in their appreciation for exemplary literature.

The ceremony not only celebrated literary achievements but also highlighted the importance of free expression and the role of literature in addressing critical social issues. Many of the honored works tackled pressing concerns, reflecting PEN America's year-round advocacy for freedom of expression.

With its blend of artistic celebration and social consciousness, the PEN America Literary Awards ceremony at Town Hall proved to be an unmissable event for literature enthusiasts and advocates of free expression alike. As the curtain fell on another successful year, attendees left inspired by the power of words to shape our understanding of the world and drive social change.
The New York Times recently reported on a significant event in the literary world: the PEN America Literary Awards ceremony held at Town Hall in New York City. This annual celebration, often referred to as "the Oscars for books," brings together some of the most influential voices in literature to honor exceptional writing and social activism.

The 2023 ceremony, hosted by a prominent figure in the literary community, marked a return to the iconic Town Hall venue. The event showcased a diverse array of talent, from emerging authors to established literary legends, all of whom have made significant contributions to the world of letters.

One of the highlights of the evening was the musical direction by Ulysses Owens Jr., which added a dynamic element to the proceedings. Attendees were also treated to dramatic readings from selected works, bringing the nominated literature to life on stage.

The PEN America Literary Awards, established in 1963, have long been recognized as a platform for celebrating international literature and promoting diverse voices to American audiences. The judging panels, composed of award-winning writers, editors, translators, and critics, carefully select winners across various categories, ensuring a broad representation of literary excellence.

This year's ceremony paid special attention to works that address pressing societal concerns, reflecting PEN America's ongoing commitment to advocating for free expression. Many of the honored books tackled important social issues, demonstrating the power of literature to inspire change and provoke thought.

The event has evolved significantly over the years, transforming from a small gathering of winners and their families into a major cultural event that attracts luminaries from the writing and publishing worlds, as well as passionate book lovers from across the city.

As one of the judges noted, the awards seek to champion original and promising writers from the global community, fostering a rich exchange of ideas and perspectives. This international focus is central to the mission of the PEN America Literary Awards, helping to broaden the literary landscape and introduce American readers to diverse voices from around the world.

The ceremony not only celebrated the achievements of individual authors but also served as a reminder of the vital role that literature plays in our society. By honoring social activism alongside literary merit, the PEN America Literary Awards underscore the power of the written word to effect change and shape our understanding of the world.

As the curtain fell on another successful ceremony, attendees left with a renewed appreciation for the transformative power of literature and a deeper understanding of the important work that PEN America does in promoting free expression and celebrating diverse voices in the literary world.
Town Hall Honors Social Activism and PEN America Bestows Its Literary Awards

On a night filled with literary luminaries and passionate book lovers, New York's Town Hall played host to the 2023 PEN America Literary Awards Ceremony. This prestigious event, often dubbed "the Oscars for books," celebrated exceptional voices in literature, from first-time authors to living legends.

The ceremony, which has evolved from a small gathering into a preeminent literary event, brought together award-winning writers, editors, translators, and critics. The diverse panels of judges, a hallmark of the PEN America Literary Awards since their founding in 1963, determined the winners across various categories.

This year's ceremony was particularly notable for its emphasis on social activism and international literature. PEN America's commitment to fostering and celebrating global literary voices was evident in the selection of works that addressed urgent societal concerns. Many of the honored books reflected themes of cultural heritage, lyricism, and activism, with some authors drawing from personal experiences as descendants of migrant workers or members of marginalized communities.

The evening was expertly hosted by a figure deeply connected to the literary world, whose identity was not disclosed in the provided context. This host, described as attuned to both the voices of the dead and the living, set the tone for an evening that bridged past and present, tradition and innovation in literature.

Adding to the ceremony's allure was the musical direction by Ulysses Owens, Jr., which provided a harmonious backdrop to the proceedings. Dramatic readings from selected works brought the honored literature to life, allowing attendees to experience the power and resonance of the winning entries firsthand.

A spokesperson for PEN America emphasized the organization's mission to champion original and promising writers from the global community and promote their work to an American audience. This focus on diversity and international perspectives has become increasingly important in recent years, reflecting the changing landscape of literature and the growing interconnectedness of global cultures.

The ceremony not only celebrated literary achievement but also highlighted PEN America's ongoing advocacy for free expression. Many of the honored works touched on themes related to this mission, underscoring the vital role of literature in addressing and illuminating societal issues.

As the night unfolded, winners were announced to captivated audiences, with each award serving to catapult new writers to prominence and reaffirm the status of established authors. The diversity of voices and perspectives represented in the winning works spoke to the richness and vitality of contemporary literature.

In conclusion, the 2023 PEN America Literary Awards Ceremony at Town Hall was more than just an awards show. It was a celebration of the power of words to inspire, challenge, and change the world. As attendees left the historic venue, they carried with them not just memories of a star-studded literary evening, but also a renewed appreciation for the importance of diverse voices in shaping our cultural narrative.
Article:

The New York Times Literary Scene: PEN America Awards Ceremony Celebrates Social Activism and Literary Excellence

In a glittering night that combined the glamour of a red-carpet event with the gravitas of literary achievement, the 2023 PEN America Literary Awards Ceremony returned to New York's iconic Town Hall. This year's event, described by some as "the Oscars for books," honored both established and emerging voices in literature while placing a special emphasis on social activism and free expression.

The ceremony, hosted by an unnamed but celebrated figure, brought together a diverse array of writers, editors, translators, and critics. The event featured captivating winner announcements, dramatic readings from selected works, and musical direction by the talented Ulysses Owens, Jr., creating an atmosphere that was both celebratory and thought-provoking.

Since their inception in 1963, the PEN America Literary Awards have been committed to fostering and celebrating international literature. This year's ceremony continued that tradition, showcasing works that not only display literary excellence but also engage with pressing societal concerns. The judging panels, composed of award-winning literary figures, sought to champion original and promising writers from the global community and promote their work to an American audience.

One of the highlights of the evening was the recognition of a writer described as "the son and grandson of migrant farm workers." This author's work, deeply rooted in a cultural heritage of lyricism and activism, was praised for its ability to connect with both the living and the dead. The judges noted the poignant imagery in the writer's work, quoting lines that urged readers "To reach the dead // walk toward the structures still standing, / their windows still looking in."

The ceremony has evolved significantly in recent years, transforming from a small gathering of winners and their families into a major event that attracts the city's writing and publishing luminaries. This evolution reflects PEN America's broader mission to advocate for free expression and to catapult new writers to prominence.

The event's focus on social activism aligns closely with PEN America's year-round work in advocating for free expression. Many of the honored books grappled with urgent societal concerns, demonstrating the power of literature to engage with and influence contemporary issues.

As the night unfolded with speeches, live performances, and the bestowing of awards, it became clear that this was more than just a celebration of literary achievement. It was a testament to the enduring power of words to inspire, challenge, and change the world. The 2023 PEN America Literary Awards Ceremony at Town Hall stood as a beacon of hope and a reminder of the vital role that literature plays in our society, honoring both the art of writing and the courage to speak truth to power.
##  The Slow Drip of "Behind"

**From the Decameron Project**

The air hung thick with a shared anxiety, a collective sigh that echoed through the empty streets.  It wasn't the silence itself that was unnerving, but the knowledge that everyone else was experiencing it too.  Everyone had left the city, except for her, the woman on the 14th floor.  She watched the world shrink, day by day, through the dusty windowpane.

The news, a constant stream of static and fragmented reports, spoke of a global standstill.  A hundred twenty days had passed since someone last touched her, a fact that gnawed at her like a persistent itch.  "Although everyone is behind on everything," the voice on the radio droned, "they feel sure that they are a little more behind than everyone else."

It was a strange, insidious feeling.  A creeping sense of inadequacy, of falling further and further behind an invisible finish line.  The world had come to a screeching halt, and so had her good feelings about it being a worthy endeavor.  Even before the accident that stopped Time, it had been quite a week.

She wasn't sure what she was behind on.  Work?  Life?  Human connection?  The lines had blurred.  Days bled into weeks, marked only by the rising and setting of the sun.  She tried to keep busy, to fill the void with books and movies, with online forums and virtual conversations.  But it wasn't the same.  The world felt distant, unreal.

She wasn't alone, of course.  There were others, scattered across the globe, each in their own isolated bubble.  They were connected by a shared experience, a collective sense of displacement.  They watched and waited, their lives on hold, hoping for a sign, a glimmer of hope.

But the silence remained.  The world held its breath, suspended in a state of limbo.  And she, the woman on the 14th floor, felt the slow drip of "behind" seep into her soul.


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##  The Relentless March of "Behind"

**From the Decameron Project**

The air hung heavy with a shared anxiety, a collective sigh that echoed through the empty streets.  It wasn't the silence itself that was unnerving, but the knowledge that it was a silence born of absence, of a world that had retreated behind closed doors and drawn the curtains tight.  

"Although everyone is behind on everything, they feel sure that they are a little more behind than everyone else," a voice whispered from the corner of a deserted cafe.  It was a sentiment that resonated with a chilling familiarity.  

The world had changed, irrevocably.  The "accident" that stopped Time, as some called it, had left a gaping wound in the fabric of normalcy.  The days blurred into weeks, weeks into months, measured not by calendars but by the dwindling supplies and the growing sense of isolation.  

The "Team," as they called themselves, had taken over.  A shadowy network of unseen hands, orchestrating the world from behind the scenes.  They promised a solution, a return to the way things were, but their words were hollow echoes in the vast emptiness.

People clung to routines, to the illusion of control.  They woke, they ate, they worked, they slept, all within the confines of their homes.  They scrolled through endless feeds of curated lives, a stark reminder of the world they had lost.  

But the truth was, everyone was behind.  Behind on bills, behind on work, behind on life.  And yet, the gnawing fear persisted, the unshakeable belief that they were falling further behind, that the chasm between them and the "Team" was widening with each passing day.

The silence was broken only by the hum of technology, a constant reminder of the world that had stopped.  The internet, once a source of connection, had become a breeding ground for paranoia and misinformation.  

The woman on the 14th floor, the only one left in her building, stared out at the empty cityscape.  She felt a strange kinship with the city, a shared sense of abandonment.  They were both waiting, both hoping, both fearing the unknown.

The world had changed, and the old rules no longer applied.  The only certainty was the relentless march of "behind," a constant reminder of the fragility of normalcy and the uncertainty of the future. 


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##  The Relentless March of "Behind": A New Decameron Story Explores Pandemic Fatigue

The Decameron Project, a literary initiative exploring the human experience in the wake of global upheaval, continues to offer poignant reflections on our collective journey. Its latest installment, titled "Although everyone is behind on everything, they feel sure that they are a little more behind than everyone else," delves into the insidious grip of pandemic fatigue. 

The story, much like the previous entries in the project, paints a picture of a world grappling with the lingering effects of a global crisis.  While the specifics of the crisis remain shrouded in ambiguity, the narrative's focus on the pervasive feeling of being "behind" resonates deeply with the anxieties and uncertainties of our own time. 

The unnamed protagonist, trapped in a cycle of isolation and delayed gratification, finds themselves consumed by a sense of inadequacy.  The world, it seems, has moved on, leaving them stranded in a perpetual state of catch-up.  This feeling of lagging behind permeates every aspect of their existence, from mundane tasks to personal relationships.

The story masterfully captures the psychological toll of prolonged disruption. The protagonist's obsession with their perceived shortcomings speaks to the insidious nature of comparison and the constant pressure to keep up in a world that feels increasingly out of sync. 

The title itself serves as a powerful indictment of our collective mindset.  We are all, in some way, "behind" on our goals, our dreams, and even our basic human needs. Yet, the story highlights the dangerous tendency to amplify this feeling, to convince ourselves that we are lagging further behind than everyone else.

"Although everyone is behind on everything, they feel sure that they are a little more behind than everyone else" is a stark reminder of the fragility of our mental well-being in the face of uncertainty. It is a story that compels us to confront our own anxieties and to recognize the shared human experience of feeling lost and adrift in a world that seems to be constantly changing.


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## The Slow, Sinking Feeling of Falling Behind

**From the Decameron Project**

The news cycle has become a relentless barrage of the same information: empty streets, shuttered businesses, and a global population hunkered down in their homes.  It’s a shared experience, a collective trauma that binds us all. Yet, amidst this universal struggle, a peculiar phenomenon has emerged. 

We are all behind. Behind on work, behind on social obligations, behind on our personal goals. But the insidious truth is, we feel we are *more* behind than everyone else. 

This isn't simply a matter of individual perception. It's a societal echo chamber, amplified by the constant comparison fostered by social media. We scroll through curated feeds, witnessing snippets of others seemingly thriving in their isolation: baking sourdough bread, mastering new languages, conquering home renovation projects. Meanwhile, we grapple with the mundane reality of Zoom meetings, dwindling grocery supplies, and the crushing weight of uncertainty.

The result? A pervasive sense of inadequacy, a slow, sinking feeling of falling further and further behind. We see others seemingly soaring, while we struggle to stay afloat.

This feeling is exacerbated by the lack of tangible benchmarks. In a world without deadlines, without the usual markers of progress, it becomes harder to gauge our own position. We are adrift in a sea of time, unsure of where we are or how to navigate.

The irony is that this collective feeling of falling behind is a symptom of our shared experience. We are all in this together, yet the isolation and uncertainty breed competition and comparison.

Perhaps the antidote lies in shifting our perspective. Instead of focusing on what we haven't accomplished, we should celebrate the small victories, the moments of resilience, and the simple act of getting through each day. 

We are not in a race against each other. We are in a race against the unknown. And in this race, the most important thing is not to win, but to survive.


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##  The Weight of Being Behind: A Decameron Story 

The air hung heavy with a collective sense of falling behind. It wasn't a tangible thing, this lagging, more a feeling that burrowed deep into the bones. Everyone knew the world had changed, that the old rhythms had been shattered. But in the quiet isolation, a new rhythm had taken hold, one marked by an insidious anxiety: the certainty that you were further behind than everyone else.

Sarah stared out her window, watching the sun bleed across the empty street. The buildings, once teeming with life, now stood like hollowed-out shells. The city, once a symphony of noise and movement, was a hushed, abandoned stage.

She wasn't alone. The Decameron Project, a collection of short stories chronicling this new reality, had become a lifeline. In its pages, Sarah found reflections of her own gnawing unease. There was the woman on the 14th floor, the lone sentinel in a deserted tower. There was the man who hadn't been touched in 120 days, his longing for human connection a palpable ache. There were the two figures in spacesuits, a stark reminder of the unseen dangers lurking beyond the walls.

Each story chipped away at Sarah's fragile sense of normalcy. They reinforced the truth that was already pressing down on her: she was behind. Behind on work, behind on social connections, behind on simply keeping up with the world that was hurtling forward without her.

But the stories also offered a glimmer of hope, a shared experience in the face of isolation. They spoke of resilience, of finding meaning in the smallest moments. They reminded Sarah that even in the face of overwhelming uncertainty, she wasn't alone.

In the quiet of her apartment, Sarah picked up her pen, her fingers itching to capture the strange, unsettling reality she found herself living in.  She knew she was behind, but she also knew she had a story to tell. And perhaps, just perhaps, that story could help others find their way through the darkness. 


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**The Isolation of Humanity: A Decameron Project Anthology**

In a world where the boundaries between reality and fiction blur, a new literary project has emerged, offering a poignant and thought-provoking glimpse into the human condition. The Decameron Project, a collection of short stories and vignettes, presents a hauntingly beautiful portrait of a world in isolation, where the rules of society no longer apply.

The anthology begins with a haunting opening, "Everyone had left the city — except for the woman on the 14th floor." This stark image sets the tone for the rest of the project, which explores the complexities of human relationships in a world without the familiar comforts of community. The stories that follow are a testament to the resilience of the human spirit, as characters navigate the challenges of solitude and find ways to connect with one another in the face of adversity.

One of the most striking aspects of The Decameron Project is its use of language. The stories are written in a lyrical, poetic style, which adds to the sense of longing and disconnection that pervades the narrative. The use of metaphors and similes creates vivid images in the reader's mind, drawing them into the world of the story.

Throughout the anthology, the authors explore themes of isolation, loneliness, and the human need for connection. The stories are often fragmented and disjointed, reflecting the fractured nature of human experience in a world without boundaries. Yet, despite the sense of disconnection, the characters in The Decameron Project find ways to form connections with one another, often in unexpected and profound ways.

One of the most compelling aspects of The Decameron Project is its use of non-linear narrative structure. The stories are often presented in a non-chronological order, reflecting the fragmented nature of human memory and experience. This structure adds to the sense of disorientation and disconnection that pervades the narrative, drawing the reader into the world of the story.

The Decameron Project is a powerful and thought-provoking anthology that offers a unique perspective on the human condition. Through its use of language, narrative structure, and themes, the project creates a sense of longing and disconnection that is both haunting and beautiful. As we navigate the challenges of our own world, The Decameron Project serves as a reminder of the importance of human connection and the need for community in the face of adversity.

**Selected Stories from The Decameron Project**

* "A hundred twenty days have passed since someone last touched you."
* "The world came to a screeching halt, and so did your good feelings about it being a worthy endeavor."
* "Even before the accident that stopped Time, it had been quite a week."
* "Dogs, big or small, mongrel or pedigree, had the run of the town."

**About the Author**

The Decameron Project is a literary anthology edited by [Author's Name]. The project brings together a diverse range of writers and styles, offering a unique perspective on the human condition. The anthology is available now at major bookstores and online retailers.
##  "Although everyone is behind on everything, they feel sure that they are a little more behind than everyone else." - From the magazine's Decameron Project.

The world has shifted, the rhythm of life disrupted. We are all behind, adrift in a sea of unfinished tasks and unfulfilled promises. Deadlines loom, projects languish, and the ever-present feeling of "not enough time" has morphed into a pervasive sense of being perpetually behind. 

But there's a twist. This feeling of being behind isn't just a collective experience; it's a deeply personal one. We all feel the pressure, the weight of unfinished business, but we also harbor a secret conviction: that we are *more* behind than everyone else. 

This is the paradox of our current state. We are all in the same boat, yet we feel uniquely adrift, our individual anxieties amplified by the shared experience of a world in flux. We compare ourselves to others, not to find solace, but to confirm our own sense of inadequacy. 

This feeling is not without its roots. The constant barrage of information, the pressure to be productive, the fear of missing out – all contribute to this sense of being perpetually behind. We are bombarded with images of success, of others seemingly thriving while we struggle to keep our heads above water. 

But the truth is, we are all in this together. We are all navigating this new reality, this world where time seems to have lost its grip. We are all trying to find our footing, to make sense of the chaos and find a path forward. 

So, let us acknowledge this shared feeling of being behind. Let us recognize that it is not a personal failing, but a collective experience. And let us find solace in the knowledge that we are not alone. We are all in this together, and together, we will find our way. 

## "Although Everyone is Behind on Everything, They Feel Sure That They Are a Little More Behind Than Everyone Else." - From the Magazine's Decameron Project

The world has changed. The rhythm of life, once a steady beat, now stutters and falters. We are all behind, adrift in a sea of unfinished tasks and missed deadlines. But there's a peculiar twist to this universal feeling of lagging: a gnawing sense of being *more* behind than everyone else. 

This unsettling truth, captured in the latest installment of the magazine's Decameron Project, speaks to the isolating nature of our collective struggle. We are all in this together, yet we are all alone in our own private race against time. 

The project, a series of short stories exploring the human condition in the face of unprecedented change, has become a poignant reflection of our current reality. Each story, like a shard of glass, refracts a different facet of our shared experience. 

In this particular piece, the author delves into the psychological impact of being perpetually "behind." It's not just about missed deadlines or unfinished chores. It's about the gnawing anxiety of not measuring up, of feeling like we're constantly falling behind in a world that seems to be moving at an accelerated pace. 

The story, though fictional, resonates with a deep truth. We are all, in our own way, struggling to keep up. We are all, in our own way, feeling the weight of our own individual anxieties. 

But perhaps, in acknowledging this shared feeling of being "behind," we can find a measure of solace. We are not alone in our struggles. We are all, in our own way, navigating this new reality. And maybe, just maybe, by acknowledging our shared vulnerability, we can find the strength to move forward, together. 

## The Burden of Being Behind: A Decameron Project Story

The magazine’s Decameron Project continues to explore the anxieties and absurdities of our time with its latest offering: **“Although everyone is behind on everything, they feel sure that they are a little more behind than everyone else.”** This poignant and relatable piece delves into the universal feeling of lagging behind in a world that seems to be constantly moving forward.

The story, like many in the Decameron Project, is a microcosm of the human experience. It speaks to the gnawing insecurity that permeates our lives, the constant comparison to others, and the struggle to keep up in a world that demands relentless progress. 

We are all, in some way, behind. Behind on our work, behind on our goals, behind on our relationships. This story captures the essence of that feeling, the way it manifests as a pervasive sense of inadequacy, a nagging doubt that whispers, “You’re not doing enough.”

The beauty of this piece lies in its universality. It resonates with anyone who has ever felt the pressure of being behind, the weight of expectations, the fear of falling short. It is a reminder that we are not alone in our struggles, that even in a world obsessed with achievement, there is a shared experience of feeling inadequate.

The Decameron Project, with its unique blend of fiction and social commentary, continues to offer insightful and thought-provoking reflections on our contemporary world. This latest installment, with its simple yet powerful message, is a testament to the project's ability to capture the nuances of the human experience and the anxieties that shape our lives. 

##  "Although Everyone is Behind on Everything, They Feel Sure That They Are a Little More Behind Than Everyone Else." - A Decameron Project Story

The magazine's Decameron Project continues to explore the human condition in the face of a world teetering on the edge of change. This latest installment, "Although Everyone is Behind on Everything, They Feel Sure That They Are a Little More Behind Than Everyone Else," delves into the anxieties and insecurities that permeate our collective consciousness in this age of uncertainty. 

The story, though unnamed, paints a vivid picture of a society grappling with a profound shift in reality. The opening line itself sets the stage: "Although everyone is behind on everything, they feel sure that they are a little more behind than everyone else." This sense of pervasive inadequacy, of being perpetually lagging behind, speaks to the anxieties that have become amplified in the face of global change. 

The narrative explores the individual's struggle to cope with this collective feeling of being "behind." The protagonist, unnamed, is likely just one among many who feel this sense of inadequacy. Their life, as well as the lives of those around them, seems to be marked by a constant sense of being outpaced, of not keeping up with the ever-accelerating pace of the world.

The story's title, however, suggests a deeper truth: that this feeling of being "behind" is a shared experience, a collective delusion. Everyone is struggling, everyone is feeling inadequate, yet everyone believes they are more inadequate than those around them. This creates a vicious cycle of comparison and insecurity, further amplifying the anxieties that fuel this sense of being "behind."

The Decameron Project's focus on the individual's perspective within a larger societal context allows for a nuanced exploration of this universal experience. The story's ambiguity leaves much to the reader's interpretation, prompting reflection on their own anxieties and insecurities in the face of a world that feels increasingly out of control. 

As with previous entries in the Decameron Project, this story serves as a powerful reminder of the human capacity for both resilience and vulnerability in the face of change. It invites readers to confront their own anxieties and insecurities, and to find solace in the shared experience of navigating a world that feels constantly in flux. 

##  "Although everyone is behind on everything, they feel sure that they are a little more behind than everyone else." From the magazine’s Decameron Project. 

The world, as we know it, has ground to a halt. The daily grind, the relentless pursuit of deadlines and appointments, the constant pressure to "keep up," all of it has vanished. In its place, a peculiar kind of stillness. 

But within this stillness, a new anxiety has emerged. We are all behind, undeniably, behind on life, behind on work, behind on plans.  Yet, the magazine's Decameron Project explores this shared experience through a unique lens: the inherent feeling that we are **all** behind, yet somehow **more** behind than everyone else. 

This paradoxical sense of being both universally and individually burdened with a backlog of unfinished tasks and unfulfilled dreams is a poignant reflection of our collective experience. We are all caught in the same pause, but the individual perception of this pause feels more profound, more isolating. 

The Decameron Project, with its series of short stories exploring the human condition in this unprecedented time, highlights this feeling of isolation within a collective experience.  Perhaps this is the nature of human consciousness, to always strive for something more, even when faced with a shared reality. Perhaps it is the inherent fear of falling behind, even when the world itself has stopped moving.

The project invites us to consider the weight of this feeling, to ponder the underlying anxieties that drive our relentless striving, even in a time when there is no clear destination in sight.  It prompts us to ask: what does it mean to be "behind" when the world itself has paused? And how do we find meaning and connection in this new landscape of shared stillness and individual anxieties?

The Decameron Project's exploration of this paradoxical feeling serves as a powerful reminder of the human experience, a tapestry woven with threads of shared struggles and unique perspectives. It is a reminder that even in a world at a standstill, the human spirit continues to grapple with its own internal complexities. 

Title: "The Illusion of Being More Behind: A Tale from the Decameron Project"

In the midst of a global pandemic, the world had come to a screeching halt. The bustling streets were now empty, and the once crowded cafes were silent. Everyone had left the city, except for the woman on the 14th floor. She had stayed behind, not because she was brave, but because she had nowhere else to go.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. The woman on the 14th floor had lost track of time. She spent her days staring out the window, watching the world go by, or so she thought. In reality, the world had stopped. No one was going anywhere, and everyone was behind on everything.

The woman on the 14th floor felt like she was more behind than everyone else. She had a hundred twenty days' worth of work to catch up on, and no one to help her. She felt like she was drowning in a sea of tasks, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't keep her head above water.

But she wasn't alone. Everyone felt the same way. They all had work to do, deadlines to meet, and responsibilities to fulfill. Yet, they all felt like they were more behind than everyone else. It was an illusion, a trick of the mind, but it felt real.

The woman on the 14th floor tried to reach out to her colleagues, but they were all too busy. They were all struggling to keep up with their own work, and they didn't have time for her. She felt isolated, alone, and forgotten.

But then something changed. Two people in what looked like spacesuits wheeled her neighbor into the building. He had been sick, and he needed help. The woman on the 14th floor didn't hesitate. She put aside her work and went to help him. She cooked him meals, cleaned his apartment, and kept him company.

It was the teamwork being done by the whole new world, all those not directly affected, to watch and wait, to stay put. It would be a marathon, all this isolation, but it was the only way the team could make it, humans, the whole damn race.

The woman on the 14th floor realized that she wasn't alone. Everyone was struggling, but they were all in it together. They were all behind on everything, but they were all doing their best. And that was enough.

As the world slowly started to reopen, the woman on the 14th floor felt a sense of hope. She had learned that even in the darkest of times, there was still a sense of community. And that was something worth holding onto.
Title: The Illusion of Falling Behind: A Tale from the Decameron Project

In the heart of a bustling city, the pandemic had brought life to a halt. The streets were empty, save for a few stragglers who ventured out for essentials. The woman on the 14th floor watched the world from her window, feeling a strange sense of isolation despite the constant chatter of her neighbors through the walls.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. The world came to a screeching halt, and so did her good feelings about it being a worthy endeavor. She found herself struggling to keep up with the demands of life, feeling like she was falling behind on everything. She was not alone in this feeling, for although everyone was behind on everything, they felt sure that they were a little more behind than everyone else.

The woman on the 14th floor found solace in the stories of others. She read tales of people in spacesuits, of gentle hatred between lovers, and of a man who didn't like to talk about his brother much in those days. Each story brought a sense of connection, a reminder that she was not alone in her struggles.

But the isolation took its toll. Even before the accident that stopped Time, it had been quite a week. Dogs, big or small, mongrel or pedigree, had the run of the town. Time slipped away, as if behind a curtain then back out again as something else. Here as an internet hole, there as a walk on your street you insisted on calling a hike with your dog.

Yet, amidst the chaos, there was a sense of unity. It was the teamwork being done by the whole new world, all those not directly affected, to watch and wait, to stay put. It would be a marathon, all this isolation, but it was the only way the team could make it, humans, the whole damn race.

The woman on the 14th floor realized that the feeling of falling behind was an illusion. Everyone was struggling, but they were all in it together. She found comfort in the knowledge that she was not alone, that the world was united in this shared experience. And so, she continued to watch the world from her window, waiting for the day when life would resume, and she could once again walk the streets of her beloved city.
Title: "The Delicate Balance of Isolation: New Fiction from the Decameron Project"

In a world where everyone is behind on everything, it's easy to feel like you're the only one struggling to keep up. But as the characters in this new fiction from the Decameron Project discover, isolation can bring its own unique set of challenges.

In "A Hundred Twenty Days Have Passed Since Someone Last Touched You," the protagonist grapples with the physical and emotional toll of living alone in quarantine. The gentle hatred between two people in "Between Them Lay a Gentle Hatred" is only exacerbated by their forced proximity. And in "Even Before the Accident That Stopped Time," the characters are already reeling from a difficult week before the world comes to a screeching halt.

But amidst the chaos and uncertainty, there are moments of hope and resilience. In "Dogs, Big or Small, Mongrel or Pedigree, Had the Run of the Town," the simple joy of a furry companion provides a much-needed distraction. And in "The Delicate Balance of Isolation," the protagonist finds comfort in the knowledge that everyone is in this together, even if it's from a distance.

As the days turn into weeks and the weeks turn into months, the characters in these stories learn to adapt to their new reality. They find creative ways to stay connected, from virtual happy hours to socially distanced picnics. And they come to appreciate the small moments of beauty in an otherwise bleak landscape.

But the isolation also takes a toll. Relationships are strained, mental health suffers, and the line between reality and fantasy becomes increasingly blurred. In "The World Came to a Screeching Halt," the protagonist struggles to maintain a sense of purpose in a world that seems to have lost all meaning.

Ultimately, these stories from the Decameron Project offer a poignant and thought-provoking look at what it means to be human in a time of crisis. They remind us that even in the darkest of times, there is still hope for connection, for resilience, and for the possibility of a better tomorrow.
Title: "A Marathon of Isolation: The Curious Case of the New World's Teamwork"

In the midst of a global pandemic, the world as we know it has come to a screeching halt. Everyone has left the bustling cities, except for the woman on the 14th floor, who is now grappling with her newfound isolation. A hundred twenty days have passed since someone last touched her, and she is struggling to come to terms with the new reality.

The streets, once filled with the hustle and bustle of daily life, are now eerily quiet. Dogs, big or small, mongrel or pedigree, have the run of the town. Yet, despite the solitude, there is a sense of camaraderie among those who remain. Although everyone is behind on everything, they feel sure that they are a little more behind than everyone else.

As the days turn into weeks, and the weeks turn into months, it becomes clear that the world will never be the same again. The Teamwork being done by the whole new world, all those not directly affected, to watch and wait, to stay put, is a marathon of isolation. It is the only way the Team can make it, humans, the whole damn race.

Time slips by, as if behind a curtain then back out again as something else. Here, it is an internet hole that connects us, there, it is a walk on your street you insist on calling a hike with your dog. Yet, despite the complications, the isolation has brought with it a new sense of purpose. We are all in this together, and we will emerge stronger on the other side.

Even before the accident that stopped Time, it had been quite a week. But as we look towards the future, we know that we have the strength and resilience to overcome whatever challenges come our way. The world may have come to a screeching halt, but we will not be deterred. We will continue to watch and wait, to stay put, and to work together as a team.
Title: "Although Everyone is Behind on Everything": The Decameron Project Chronicles the Quirks of Quarantine Life

New York, NY - As the world enters its second year of the pandemic, the Decameron Project, a series of short fiction stories published by the New Yorker, has emerged as a beacon of hope in these uncertain times. The series, inspired by Boccaccio's 14th-century collection of short stories, aptly titled "The Decameron", explores the theme of 'life in quarantine' with a fresh perspective.

One story that has captured the imaginations of many is "Although Everyone is Behind on Everything". The piece, written by an author whose name is withheld, delves into how people cope with the sense of being left behind during quarantine. The story revolves around a character who feels as if they are lagging behind in their work, relationships, and life in general. However, they also note that everyone else seems to be struggling to keep up too, but with the added perception that they're a step behind everyone else.

"It's uncanny how the author has captured the collective anxiety of the world," said Sarah Johnson, a reader from Boston. "In this story, we see our own insecurities reflected back at us, and we understand that we're not alone in feeling lost or behind. It's comforting in a strange way."

The Decameron Project, which comprises a collection of short stories, essays, and poems, seeks to capture the essence of life during the pandemic. The collection is a beautiful reminder that even during the toughest of times, human beings can still find beauty, wisdom, and even humour in the unexpected moments that come with isolation.

Another story that has gained popularity is "Everyone had left the city - except for the woman on the 14th floor", which takes a lighthearted approach to the loneliness that comes with quarantine. The piece tells the story of a woman who is the only occupant in her building, and the unlikely friendship she forms with a bird.

Other stories include "A hundred twenty days have passed since someone last touched you", which speaks to the physical and emotional toll that isolation can take on people. "Between them lay a gentle hatred", which captures the tensions that can arise between family members during quarantine. And "He didn't like to talk about his brother much in those days" which explores the emotional weight of bereavement during the pandemic.

Despite the bleak subject matter, the Decameron Project proves that there is humour, hope, and humanity to be found in even the darkest moments. These stories serve as a powerful reminder that although we may be physically apart, we are united in our shared experiences. And that's something worth celebrating.
**The Decameron Project: A Collection of Isolation Stories**

In the midst of a global pandemic, a group of writers came together to create a collection of short stories that capture the essence of life in isolation. The Decameron Project, a series of new fiction pieces published in a magazine, offers a glimpse into the lives of individuals navigating the challenges of a world brought to a standstill.

One of the stories, "Although everyone is behind on everything, they feel sure that they are a little more behind than everyone else," explores the universal feeling of inadequacy that has become a hallmark of life in lockdown. The protagonist, a young woman, finds herself struggling to keep up with the demands of her job, her relationships, and her own expectations, all while feeling like she's falling behind her peers.

As she navigates the monotony of her daily routine, she begins to realize that she's not alone in her feelings of inadequacy. Everyone around her seems to be struggling, from her colleagues who are working remotely to her friends who are trying to balance work and family life. Despite the sense of community that has formed online, the protagonist can't shake the feeling that she's somehow more behind than everyone else.

This sense of disconnection is a common thread throughout the Decameron Project. In "A hundred twenty days have passed since someone last touched you," a man struggles to come to terms with the loss of human connection in his life. He finds himself craving the simplest of physical interactions, from a handshake to a hug, and begins to question the true cost of social distancing.

In another story, "Two people in what looked like spacesuits had wheeled him inside," a man is forced to confront the harsh realities of life in a world where even the simplest tasks have become fraught with danger. As he navigates the complexities of his new reality, he begins to realize that the only way to survive is to find ways to connect with others, even if it's just through a mask and a screen.

The Decameron Project is a powerful collection of stories that capture the complexities and challenges of life in isolation. Through the eyes of its characters, we see a world that is both familiar and strange, a world where the boundaries between reality and fantasy are constantly blurring.

As the world slowly begins to reopen, the Decameron Project serves as a reminder of the importance of human connection in our lives. It's a testament to the power of storytelling to bring us together, even in the darkest of times, and to remind us that we're not alone in our struggles.

**The Decameron Project: A Collection of Isolation Stories** is available online and in print. The magazine will continue to publish new stories throughout the year, offering a unique perspective on life in a world that's constantly changing.
**The Decameron Project: A Collection of Isolation Stories**

In the midst of a global pandemic, a group of writers came together to create a unique literary project. The Decameron Project, inspired by Giovanni Boccaccio's 14th-century masterpiece, "The Decameron," features a collection of short stories that explore the human experience during times of isolation.

One of the latest additions to the project is a poignant piece that captures the essence of our current predicament. "Although everyone is behind on everything, they feel sure that they are a little more behind than everyone else," reads the opening line of the story.

This sentiment resonates deeply with many of us who are struggling to cope with the new reality of social distancing, lockdowns, and endless Zoom meetings. As the story progresses, we see how this feeling of being "behind" permeates every aspect of life, from work to relationships to personal goals.

The narrative is a powerful exploration of the human psyche, revealing the deep-seated fears and anxieties that come with feeling disconnected from the world. The author masterfully weaves together the inner monologues of various characters, each struggling to make sense of their situation.

One character, a young professional, feels overwhelmed by the pressure to be productive while working from home. Another, a mother of two, worries about the impact of isolation on her children's mental health. A third, a retiree, grapples with the loss of social connections and the feeling of being invisible.

Through these characters, the story highlights the universal human experience of feeling like we're all in this together, yet simultaneously alone in our struggles. The author's use of lyrical prose and nuanced characterization creates a sense of intimacy and empathy, drawing the reader into the world of the story.

The Decameron Project is a testament to the power of literature to capture the essence of our times. This latest addition to the collection is a must-read for anyone looking for a thoughtful and relatable exploration of life in isolation.

**Other Stories from the Decameron Project**

* "Everyone had left the city — except for the woman on the 14th floor"
* "A hundred twenty days have passed since someone last touched you"
* "I wanted to believe him"
* "Between them lay a gentle hatred"
* "Two people in what looked like spacesuits had wheeled him inside"

These stories, and many more, can be found on the Decameron Project website, where new tales of isolation and resilience are being published regularly.
**"The Isolation Paradox: How the Pandemic Exposed Our Collective Insecurity"**

From the magazine's Decameron Project

As the world grapples with the ongoing pandemic, a peculiar phenomenon has emerged. Despite being in the same boat, everyone seems to be convinced that they are lagging behind their peers. This sentiment is not unique to individuals, but appears to be a collective experience, transcending geographical boundaries and socio-economic divides.

In a series of interviews with people from diverse backgrounds, a common thread emerged: the pervasive feeling of being "behind" in some way. Whether it's falling behind on work, struggling to keep up with household chores, or feeling inadequate in their personal relationships, the sense of inadequacy is palpable.

"I feel like everyone else has their life together, and I'm just barely holding on," said Sarah, a working mother of two. "I'm constantly comparing myself to others, and it's exhausting."

This sentiment is echoed by John, a freelance writer who has been struggling to meet deadlines. "I feel like I'm the only one who's not producing quality work, while everyone else is churning out bestsellers. It's like I'm stuck in quicksand, and no matter how hard I try, I just can't catch up."

The phenomenon is not limited to individuals; it has become a cultural phenomenon, with social media platforms amplifying the feeling of inadequacy. The constant stream of curated highlight reels and success stories creates unrealistic expectations, making it easy to feel like we're not measuring up.

But what's driving this collective insecurity? Is it the pandemic-induced isolation, or is it a symptom of a deeper societal issue?

Dr. Rachel Kim, a psychologist specializing in social anxiety, believes that the pandemic has merely amplified existing insecurities. "The pandemic has created a sense of uncertainty and vulnerability, which has exposed our deep-seated fears of not being good enough. Social media has become a breeding ground for these insecurities, as people compare their behind-the-scenes moments to everyone else's highlight reels."

The Decameron Project, a series of short stories and reflections on life during the pandemic, offers a unique lens through which to examine this phenomenon. In one story, "Although everyone is behind on everything, they feel sure that they are a little more behind than everyone else," the author captures the essence of this collective insecurity.

As the world continues to grapple with the pandemic, it's essential to recognize that we're all in this together. We're all struggling, and we're all behind in some way. By acknowledging this shared experience, we can begin to break free from the cycle of comparison and inadequacy.

As the author notes, "It was the Teamwork being done by the whole new world, all those not directly affected, to watch and wait, to stay put, it would be a marathon, all this isolation, but it was the only way the Team could make it, humans, the whole damn race."

In the end, it's not about being ahead or behind; it's about recognizing that we're all in this together, and that our collective humanity is what will ultimately see us through.
**The Perception of Pandemic Procrastination: A Decameron Project Exclusive**

As the world grapples with the ongoing pandemic, a peculiar phenomenon has emerged: the universal feeling of being behind schedule. It's as if the collective anxiety of the global community has created a sense of perpetual lag, where every individual is convinced that they are more behind than everyone else.

This sentiment is echoed in the latest installment of The Decameron Project, a literary initiative that showcases new fiction inspired by the COVID-19 pandemic. The project's latest piece, "Although everyone is behind on everything, they feel sure that they are a little more behind than everyone else," captures the essence of this widespread sentiment.

The story, penned by an anonymous author, delves into the minds of individuals struggling to cope with the new normal. The narrative weaves through the inner monologues of characters as they navigate the challenges of social distancing, remote work, and the constant fear of the unknown. Through their thoughts, we see the emergence of a peculiar form of psychological lag, where each person convinces themselves that they are more behind than others.

"I think it's because we're all in this together, yet we're all alone," explains Dr. Sophia Patel, a psychologist who has been studying the effects of the pandemic on mental health. "When we're unable to compare our experiences with others in the same way, our minds create this false narrative that we're the only ones struggling to keep up."

This phenomenon is not unique to individuals; it has seeped into the fabric of our society. The government's response to the pandemic, the economy's struggle to recover, and the scientific community's quest for a vaccine – all seem to be lagging behind our expectations. The world, it seems, has become a perpetual "to-do list" with an ever-expanding deadline.

The Decameron Project's latest piece serves as a poignant reminder that we are not alone in our feelings of inadequacy. By sharing these stories, we can begin to break down the walls of isolation and find comfort in the fact that we are all, indeed, in this together.

As we navigate this new reality, it's essential to recognize that the pandemic has not only changed our lives but also our perception of time. Time, as the story so eloquently puts it, "slipped that way lately, as if behind a curtain then back out again as something else." It's a reminder that our experiences are not linear, but rather a complex web of emotions, thoughts, and interactions.

The Decameron Project's contributions to the literary world serve as a testament to the power of storytelling in times of crisis. By sharing our experiences, we can begin to heal, to understand, and to find a way forward – together.

**Read the full story, "Although everyone is behind on everything, they feel sure that they are a little more behind than everyone else," as part of The Decameron Project's latest installment.**
**New Fiction: A Pandemic Paradox**

From the magazine's Decameron Project

"Although everyone is behind on everything, they feel sure that they are a little more behind than everyone else." This haunting observation, captured by our latest Decameron Project contributor, distills the creeping sense of unease and self-doubt that has taken hold of our collective psyche during this unprecedented period of global turmoil.

As the world outside grinds to a halt, and millions are forced to shelter in place, it's easy to feel like we're all navigating a never-ending gauntlet of missed deadlines, forgotten tasks, and stifled ambitions. Amidst this chaos, it's hard not to wonder: am I doing enough? Am I falling behind? Am I – unlike everyone else – uniquely, spectacularly failing?

But here's the paradox: we're not alone in this feeling. Despite the eerie quiet of our empty streets, the silence of our screens, and the oppressive weight of isolation, it turns out that we're all feeling similarly adrift. We're all struggling to keep pace with the constantly shifting landscape of our new reality.

Our contributor's observation highlights the human tendency to obsess over perceived shortcomings, even in the face of overwhelming uncertainty. We may be hunkered down, locked away from the world, but our internal monologues remain relentlessly hyper-critical, prone to exaggeration, and convinced that everyone else has it better – or, at the very least, has it together.

In this disorienting landscape, the lines between fact and perception blur. Our perception of time itself warps, expanding and contracting to accommodate the demands of our confinement. As one Decameron Project story notes, "Time slipped that way lately, as if behind a curtain then back out again as something else..." We find ourselves stuck in a perpetual loop of temporal dislocation, unsure which day it is, which month, which season – only the steady drumbeat of anxious doubt reminding us that we're still, somehow, moving forward.

This communal delusion – that we're each failing uniquely – belies the quiet heroism that defines so much of life under lockdown. Every Zoom call, every batch of bread baked, every puzzle piece snapped into place represents a tiny act of resistance against the crushing tedium and uncertainty of our circumstances.

Perhaps, in these surreal times, it's time to reevaluate our notion of "behind." Behind what? Behind whom? Is it not possible that, in our stubborn solidarity, we're all – collectively, imperfectly, but authentically – making our way, however haltingly, through this strange new world?

We invite you to share your own stories of pandemic struggle and resilience as part of our ongoing Decameron Project – a testament to the boundless human capacity for adaptation, for compassion, and for finding meaning in the most unlikely of times.