LOCKDOWN – DAY3 &4!
“Get off that bloody Play Station and brush the dog, there’s tumbleweeds of hair everywhere”
“Because I say so!”
”Why can’t Dad do it?”
“Dad is busy!”
“No he’s not. He’s watching Star Trek and eating custard creams”
“Are you eating the last of the Biscuits?”
“We need to start packing soon Marcus, just in case we complete on April fool’s day, can you get the stuff off the top of the wardrobe?”
“I will, after Spock saves the Enterprise from the Tribble”
“*sigh* …I’m cooking lunch in a minute, can you both set the table? Hello, hello? Oh fu*k it, you can get your own bloody food, I’m going back to bed!”
“That cloud looks like a sausage dog; look it’s got one leg shorter than the other”
I am sat on the balcony with my husband. All attempts at personal grooming have vacated the building and I’m slowly starting to resemble Waynetta’s uglier sibling. The bathroom, in desperate need of a damp sponge and a vat of bleach, waits patiently while Facebook and WhatsApp take precedence over household chores. Nobody is coming to visit us any more so why bother?
“I think I’ll walk Brian over to the office, make sure everything is ok, no leaks or power cuts” my husband mumbles to no one in particular.
The “Office” is the term we use for our new business and is on the street behind us. We daren’t say the name of it just in case armageddon actually occurs and we never get to open. Weeks have been spent renovating the existing template but now it’s just sat there, waiting to be explored, lonely in its enforced isolation. When will it be full of curious customers? Only this virus knows the answer. We no longer get to dictate our lives, an invisible force is playing hide and seek with our waking days and time is the only master.
I look up the sky, the sausage dog has gone. It’s just a blanket of grey enveloping the landscape.
“Grab a bottle of Vodka on your way back,” I say to the departing figure, “I think we are going to need it.”
To be continued…
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