In Shawshank, Red is “the guy who can get it for you.” He is able to procure items which make prison life more palatable. On page 17, Red says, “…and I guess you’ll know what guys in here do with such items during the long nights when time draws out like a blade.” That perfect Stephen King phase “time draws out like a blade” evokes an image in my mind of a swashbuckler removing a long sword from the scabbard. As we finish our last remote learning session before the start of spring break, we are on the precipice, staring at a double-edged sword. On the one hand, we are looking down the pike at ten heavenly days of rest and relaxation; on the other, we are staring down the well of ten days of viral incarceration. Where does the sword land? Probably somewhere in the middle: happy to be off but worried about the world and sad about canceled plans, closed parks, and different days. I am going to try to enjoy getting up in the morning and using my computer for pleasure instead of work then being able to move about my home without knowing I have to return to the computer chair. I hope to remain grateful for my life – the health of my family and friends, sunshine soothing my shoulders, drinking coffee without an agenda, reading books that aren’t in the curriculum. I hope to defer worry about my students and how they are coping. I hope to remember those who are ill or afraid. I hope to find the restorative powers of respite. I hope.