A week ago we shared a semi-nervous coffee with a dozen of our friends in a semi-outdoor cafe as a kind of a wake for the year we had planned. The realisation that we had all been with an acquaintance who had been rumoured to have returned from overseas in the past few days (he hadn't) had shaken each of us into a sense of reality.
Then, around three hundred people in our large barely inhabited country had contracted the disease and if as our authorities were predicting, twenty five percent of us were likely to follow, we figured we would do what we could to be in the other seventy five percent.
From that day on, we would limit our outings to one day a week for necessities, and a daily walk to the beach where we can scan the horizon for signs of our approaching doom, while keeping a safe distance from others.
Our family, apparently with even more concern for our mortality than even we, completely supported our thoughts. We were to discover in the days that followed that there are a lot of things that need tidying up if one is to voluntarily isolate oneself in the path of approaching pandemic.
1 comment
Glad to see you back on the inner tubes!
We had already put our plans on hold due to my health issues (a bunch of cells in my throat that refused to stop dividing. Radiation and a couple doses of poison ran them off but any traveling would be delayed until July.) Now, like you folks, we’re wondering if we’ll get over there at all.
6 feet ( or is that 1.8 meters) apart!
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