Quiet

It’s definitely lighter now than it was a few weeks ago at 8pm when we first went to the window and clapped for the care workers. It’s quaint that we still do it, although I can never shake the suspicion that if a care worker was home to hear it they’d be sleeping. Still we get to honk our honkythings and clap our hands and hear one another whooping and clapping and remembering that we are together alone.

Officially another three weeks minimum in the UK battening down the hatches, said Bojo today, and I have a strong suspicion it’ll be considerably longer in the playing. He also put out a “should we postpone Brexit yes/no” questionnaire on his Facebook and I honestly didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

The ghost of this thing will be with us for years, if not decades. The actor playing Belch in the outdoor Twelfth Night had better think twice before taking a sip of audience wine. Handwashing stations at festivals are going to be swimming pools of mud on day one. Business meetings will start with bowing to each other even if nobody is from a culture where that’s been normalised.

Brian appeared outside my window this morning, sitting atop his vast purring monster of a superbike. We spoke on the phone whilst looking at each other. He had his helmet on and gear so it was a bit like talking to a friendly tank. Still It was the first time I’ve been in the same shot as one of my friends since this all started, and even then it was only the wide angle. I haven’t shared air with anyone since I went for a pub lunch in Chelsea the day before the pubs closed. Most of us haven’t. And most of us are starting to go stir crazy.

I didn’t go to the pet shop. I woke up with unfamiliar but quite severe pain in the small of my back and I’ve decided to blame it on everything from tension to kidney stones to cystitis to sleeping funny. It’ll work out in my favour though as I’m using the discomfort to take booze out in the equation for a bit to let the old body recover. So I rested.

Apart from making food, I’ve just consumed things. Two or three more anthologies from the Judge Dredd Mega Collection and I’m gaining a deep respect for John Wagner as a writer of comic books with heart and content. So prolific as well. I’m not even halfway through reading the lot and I’ve done at least two a day since the doors closed.

20200416_210150

Then I went onto Mubi for today’s movie – I’m going for one a day as it means I just have to watch whatever is coming off, rather then get picky and spend forever deciding. This one was Brazilian : Neighbouring Sounds. Compelling, but unlike many of the foreign movies I find myself watching, not an advert for the country. A hot strange oppressive film, beautifully observed but not relaxing. Streets away from the 1957 samurai bathhouse romp that barely touched the sides yesterday.

Generally, nothing to report. All quiet on the Western Front. Hope you’re all well.

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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