Captain’s log; Startled date 02/04/2020
Death toll: 2921
Issues: ineffective testing, PPI and anxiety of the rise eugenic speak in the media and beyond.
Upside: clapping for key workers.
Today we entered the second stage of the new normal where the adrenaline drops and the realisation that we cannot return home creeps into our consciousness, creating a gravity echo that leads to a deep and alarming torpor. Note has been taken of the warmth and safety of the bed in the morning, the unwillingness to even get into Starry Fleet uniforms; sports bras hang as wilted breastplates from the door handles, sleep-wear is seen at morning roll-call.
The crew require greater support and acknowledgment to survive this stage of the journey. Regular doses of sunlight, clever music and much hugging of Mitzie, the furry crew member, who is immune, thank all the Gods, to this virus.
Communications are still regular -mostly now shouted from 2 metres away from other entities but easy to understand in all languages – ‘How are you doing?’
‘Are you able to get your shopping?’
‘Thank goodness for the sunshine!’ and
‘The queue starts here…”
We are learning new online skills and have discovered ‘zoom’ and ‘google hangouts’ allowing us to connect to Startled Fleet Command and friends and family. Eyes smart with peering at screens.
We are our colleague Ripley, clambering into her space suit and trying not to wake the slumbering monster, whispering ‘…lucky, lucky, lucky…’, under her breath, sweat dripping down her nose, eyes huge. But some of us are not lucky. Won’t be lucky. In Isolation No One Can Hear Your Scream!
Tomorrow we venture out again, aware of how sweet the air is without the fumes; spring sweet. We will see the shapes of people but never get close enough to see their faces. Mitzie, the furry crew member and I will hail them anyway. ‘We come in peace!’
How are you doing?