"Perhaps the tension generated by the tasks of the presidency strengthens the tension of writing, of the imagination, of the creative drive. I write on the computer, but I also write on pieces of paper, on napkins . . . I must have dozens upon dozens of notebooks full of scribbles. I write any way I can, including on my cell phone (in the tiny square designated for "notes"). I even write when I don't have paper, pen, or computer. With the mind, with the memory. I see, for example, that I wrote this early one morning (May 14, 2020): “. . . Through this time, unmeasured even by the codé1 of Zeus and Tyche, its Creator, I dream of an agile, expert trumpeter with long hair and full curls, a slender, mulatto body, whose name, of course, I do not know, but who is certainly not the fruit of Prudentia's magic potion, much less descended from castrated Uranus . . ."" Jorge Carlos Fonseca Words Without Borders