By Alex Z. Salinas
A quick temperature check on social media informed Larry Rios that the state of things was like Edvard Munch’s The Scream. Uneasy and wobbly and murky, despairing; lots of loud noise, extraordinarily piercing. Larry considered the little he’d read about the Norwegian Modernist painter—an insecure wreck who’d almost drunk himself to death before a late-career spiritual turnaround. If that rascal could do it, anyone can, thinks Larry. Although, and he’s loath to admit this, screaming into one’s pillow is pretty freakin’ purifying. If you’re ever feeling hideous or lethargic—especially lethargic—grab a pillow and emancipate your throat into it.