It has been six months since the pandemic forced me, along with so many others, back home. It was unreal for so long – the fear of death, the heart-clenching stories from across the seven seas. No one was spared, some the victims of diseases, some living under the emotional trauma that spread like wildfire. We have debated, pointed fingers, cried in despair, stared at the wall for hours, and hoped to wake up and realize it was all a dream. But that didn’t happen. This seems to be 2Q20, very much like 1Q84, but instead of two moons, we have a virus wreaking havoc on our otherwise seemingly pleasant lives. Maybe God left his planning diary in a bar, and someone decided to pull some tricks of their own, just enough to not raise suspicion. After all, humans are easy to put the blame on, Chinese even more so.

The mystery to me, call me selfish, is the abyss of denial I have in store in my soul. I can’t bear to see the news and put myself through comprehending what struck us, so I don’t; I just choose not to. I look out the window, and surprisingly I don’t see COVID or its mercenaries, nor do I hear the gossips and village grapevine. They have all fallen into the abyss. Very much like the latter, which I have adorned under the pretense of cute characteristics of simple people trying to make their everyday lives interesting, the former has also fallen through the rabbit hole, not even surprising me by guest appearances in dreams.

However strange I find it, I can’t deny the calmness. And thus I look out the window. I peek out through the pretty curtains, hoping to see nothing but the sweet monotony of what is familiar like Elliot said. Sun, the right temperature, rain, the right amount, breeze, just a tad bit, enough to arouse daydreams. What is not to like in this perfect world as long as I don’t look down the abyss? Beautiful.

That is when I notice someone walking by, down the one-lane road, in fact just beyond the turning I fell and broke my knee as a child. Something or someone familiar yet not so comprehensible. I strain my eyes and let my brain work the puzzle. I hear the gear struggling against the rust in my head as it dawns upon me. As I look out the window, I see…youth passing by, not to return.

<Originally posted at Muffled>