To a New Dawn: Letters of Solidarity Anthology

MEGAN TURNER, 23 November 2020 Dearest mind, I have spent the longest with you throughout lockdown, despite numerous attempts to escape. Returning to you in my room after every pause, back on the sofa when FaceTime finally ended. Less usual distractions, more time alone.

Thinking of all and everything or staring gormlessly at whatever was going on just past the front gate. Stopping to look at nature and learning to be less busy, nothing to delay. Only living in the present because, at the moment, the future feels cancelled.

Remember when time felt still? When the only reason you were sure it hadn’t stopped was the ticking coming from on top of the fireplace. On those long days in the depths of April, practising taking deep breaths felt like the only way to get through it. But you did.

Now the year is nearly out. Some say time flies when you’re having fun, but no one tells you how fast it ticks on when seemingly stationary. Make sure you get out of bed; it will help your head. And don’t worry if you write loads of lists that never get looked at again.

It has never been easier to disappear in public. Summer 64