Y THE EVENING of March 14, 2020, my pantry was so full it spilled out onto the floor. How much grain could I hoard? How much pasta would carry my family through COVID-19? I wanted security. I wanted to be snug as a British badger in slippers, cozy in my burrow. What part of my storage surpassed utility and formed a fiction? My children play, “How will we defend ourselves from the zombie hordes?” “Zombie hordes” is
