TEO EVE, 23 Dear Lockdown, You’ve not been so bad – though you’ve been one long moment suspended and dangled over the city. A spring and summer gone, traded in for the worst seasons. Every hint of opening brims with optimism that seems undeserved. Just four/five/six months ago we watched China through hazy screens, were shocked by Italy while still being relieved that this wasn’t happening to us. Lockdown, you cause envy of all the other countries for whom time has resumed, while we still watch shops through queues that spill into the high street. The thing I miss the most is being able to wander around the streets, winding my way through them without a purpose. My world’s not my room anymore – it’s not been that bad for months, but I only leave the house to shop. All else seems irresponsible. I thought I’d have tons of time to catch up on all the things I’d missed, culture that can be consumed at home, reading in the garden. Work has swallowed my time, made it disappear. It feels as though I’ll emerge from this with nothing to show for it, as though I’ve not survived. That’s what I’ve got to show for it. That’s what we’ve all got for sitting inside: the chance to come out of this alive.
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