Thirty Three

On May 11^th 2023, COVID-19 became endemic.

I went to a doctor for help with my head and she said, ‘Why do you even live in the city?’

I spent every other month proving I exist to the government because they often have doubts.

I wanted to learn something, but in the city, funding doesn’t exist for the courses I need.

Why do you even live in the city?

Both my work coaches went on long-term sick in the same week.

When I sit down to write, all I can see are Tetris blocks floating down the page.

Thirty-three, sick.

Karl

Karl can’t get anywhere on time. He can get up early, check his schedule, and set off with the intention of arriving ten minutes early, but he’s always late, often by hours. Maybe he walks too slow, perhaps he gets lost and gets distracted, but he doesn’t like to make excuses. After turning four hours late to pick his nephew up from school, he simply concluded that some people aren’t made to be on time. Time is a concept anyway, no matter how much his nephew and sister tell him otherwise.

Time is different for us all.

Joe

Joe kept pacing around his flat, going from room to room, pacing until something would happen. What would happen? Not even Joe quite knew, but he felt if he paced enough, something significant would take place. A knock at the door, a call from his phone, an email, anything to change the status quo that was pacing around. He felt that life and movies weren’t as far removed from each other as they seemed. If someone burst through his window, that would be the call he needed, the hero’s journey.

By the day’s end, he had blisters on his feet.

Ivy

Ivy fell asleep standing in line for the latest hot cafe, a cafe that sold food in shoes, how cool. She fell asleep despite the exciting premise, and people behind shuffled her along because they had a little bit of queue etiquette which is often disregarded in the modern age.

She finally made it into the cafe and the person who had been pushing her along felt a little sorry that she might miss out on the experience for being asleep. She helped her order her food in a shoe, and took some pictures.

Next day, Ivy shared them online.

Harrison

Harrison takes pride in how soft and fluffy he is. He’s so soft and fluffy, that people pay to experience his tufts of hair. They enter his den in groups of two to four, all taking turns to stroke, pat and hug his fine fluffy soft bod. He loves it when the girls do it especially, often reaching his lips out whilst they do, so he can kiss their cheeks, neck, and hair. Some are fine with it, and some stand back looking puzzled, they only came for the fluff, but they come around to it.

Harrison is an alpaca.

Gary

Gary liked to sit by the window seat on public transport and watch the world go by. He saw motorways, cows, factories and sometimes a few cute dogs under the bridges, and he liked to see it all. On the train, he felt safe, a spectator, but because he took the same train to work every day, the scenes and the views became a little bit repetitive. He couldn’t change the route, it was the only way to work, but he had another idea.

He started paying people to follow the train to wave or fight. He made his view.

Faye

Faye couldn’t handle the flow of the world , to the point that even going to the supermarket could often be too much , that lack of structure and routine along the ailes, yack! She at least had a system agreed with the independent cinema, for that was one of her only escapes from it all, to have a reserved seat.

But this was short-lived. She was often told they weren’t hers, but no one ever sat in them, and when she ignored the staff and sat, someone actually appeared, theirs. 

In dreams the reserved seating now follows her everywhere. In stores, at home , she finds a demon sitting, staring, laughing. Reserved

Ellen

Ellen liked to lick the envelopes real good, one long tongue line so the saliva would cover it all. She wondered if others were as into it as her, and if people realised that opening an envelope was inviting their hands to play around with old dry spit. 

One day she found a bump on her tongue. It wasn’t sore, but she took a break from her letter licking just to be safe. It wriggled in the night.

And it burst over morning coffee, a bunch of baby roaches swarming out.  They came from the manufacturing line, with kind regards.

Dan

Dan wanted to be deep. He wanted to dive so deep that those in the office couldn’t even fish him out from the deepness he’d found himself in. He only listened to classical music and watched European movies, and the only books he read were those before the war. There was nothing wrong with that, Dan had found a nice set of niches to be in, but when it came to talking to others about his deep dives, he just blurted out words even he didn’t know the meaning to.

At night he had dreams about Desperate Dan and his cow pies.

Claire

Claire rushed to the public toilets to get away from the crowds in the street, but the toilets weren’t much better at keeping her calm. She looked at herself in the mirror, feeling empty, drained, and saw the public toilets reflected alongside her. Despite never being here before they looked like many of the toilets she’d been in through the years. And this made her feel worse, because she knew as she checked her purse, that all the magic had seeped out through a hole somewhere. She heard a flush from the cubicle, a rush of a tap. She left.