Sweet Dreams

 ...and flying machines in pieces on the ground. Life is a series of birthdays, each one a milestone and a marker. A way of trying to remember people and places or a prompt as to life's slow but steady progress and the confusion created along the way. My first pandemic birthday is now on the muddled horizon despite my best attempts at denial. Pubs and restaurants are closed, travel is discouraged and gatherings are prohibited. Fun sucked up by the Covid sponge. The window of opportunity has closed as we struggle with the quirks and paradoxes of staying safe and alive and being human. An unfortunate and unavoidable state we all suffer from.

Society: It's never been easy but now it's mostly confusing and the sense of inner conflict we all feel rises like a bad smell from each crossed out diary date. We're enduring a slow death in order to live, smiling on in the margins, standing in the cold supping coffee like amateur detectives on a tough case. Casing the joint, just waiting for a break, it's not here yet. Hoping that party hungry idiots don't blow up in our neighborhood with their lack of distancing as they skew the infected numbers and condemn us to solitary confinement for Christmas and beyond. 

Entertainment: I probably should be more bothered but I'm puzzled, do you run away from or run towards the threat? Do you simply stand still and obey as the angel of pestilence and inconvenience passes over killing our hopes for 2020? What TV show or film should we stream to dull the pain? What steps to take? There's too much shouting going on and social media is a mess. The phone line to the Chinese take away counter is permanently engaged and the apps are jammed. Try again later. We are experiencing high demand and higher volumes (regardless of the time of your call). The new contract to free up the systems will be awarded soon but not to anyone competent or with relevant experience. 

Trouble: Four Romanians in a black Audi are patrolling the streets looking for a business opportunity or to make trouble. Not all Romanians behave this way, though these guys are stealing tools from sheds and trying door handles. They're real but they're in a fictitious disguise, nocturnal, a clear and present threat, possibly not in your area yet, they may have indeed moved on, such was the fury and indignation expressed on Facebook. They're to blame for the litter, the excess revving of engines, the broken glass and the flickering of a hundred security lights ... and still they come. Their presence invades our dreams, bogey men and undesirables forcing us to pull up drawbridges and close the blinds. Eyes shut tight we sleep on. We will awake in the spring, assess the damage and submit a well put together report. It will be ignored, the courts have more pressing business to deal with and there's a high volume of calls. Sweet dreams.

Hidden in plain sight: And another thing, I'd always imagined that our leaders, as we lurch into dictatorship and downright corruption, would have been better looking and better dressed. Hmm.