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 Two Hundred Forty Five

Such a strange time this November in our ongoing struggle with the grippe reborn. His forces have never been stronger in these parts. Every afternoon brings word that more and more have been brought to his side, nearly a thousand a day, sometimes more. And each day also brings word of more who have fallen.

People whisper in hushed tones about the last time the dread lord seized the world, how he first made his presence known in the spring, seeming to vanish in the summer months, only to reappear with even greater strength in the fall and winter. It seems we are living something of the same story now. Perhaps we are better prepared though it doesn’t feel like it in the moment.

In the midst of all this death and destruction we receive word that our salvation may only be a few short months away. By springtime inoculations may have passed all protocols and be ready to distribute to those on the front lines of the struggle. June and July may bring it to everyone in these parts. Seven months. Never has seven months seemed so long and yet so short a time.

The apparent confirmation – though much remains to be determined – that our defences will hold the dread lord at bay and eventually cripple his power does bring to mind many questions about our current tactics against the dread lord. In these parts we have tried to have things both ways, watchful against the grippe reborn while trying to maintain some semblance of our regular lives.

The failures of the path we have chosen are becoming more and more evident as the weeks go by, yet our leaders refuse to turn aside. They speak of the need to keep our day to day lives going, the economic carnage that will result from more restrictions and the burden to our health the restrictions will bring. There is truth to all of that. We cannot all sit at home for seven months waiting for our inoculations. We will go mad. The economy will undoubtedly suffer as well. It is suffering now and people’s livelihoods are being ruined.

It was especially true when we didn’t know whether the inoculations would work, or how long we would have to wait until we could construct some other defences. Now we do. Seven months. Maybe a little more if we encounter problems along the way. Any balance we try to strike between our regular lives and keeping the dread lord at bay needs to be reconsidered in this light. People need not die if we can protect them in the meantime. We have seven months to find our way through this morass.