Notes on the Grippe

Being an accounting of the recent and continuing pandemic and its various circumstances, from the perspective of an inhabitant of the regions lately called the Lost Quarter. Dates unknown.

Day Twenty Nine

Snow again, mixed with rain, and a sky so grey it seems empty.

The tedium of the moment has truly set in now as we approach a month of quarantine with truly no end in sight. The news is the same every day, for all the world suffers from the depredations of the dread lord, and each day begins to feel the same as well. There is nothing to distinguish them but the weather and that is bleak. Snow again.

With the boredom comes a restlessness that sits deep in the bones. Even the activities we have taken on to stave off that boredom have become tedious in their own right. A chore to be completed each day. And there is no end in sight to any of this, even with our recent successes against the grippe. We know he will marshal his powers, find our weakest points and strike there again.

Yet the quarantine presses upon my thoughts, placing a ceiling on them like the grey sky above, so that I am only looking straight ahead at the footsteps right in front of me. The next day, with snow again, and a sky so grey it seems empty.

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