There we are. It has come to this point.

Stuck at home, with everything we hold dear.

Patiently brought together in this beautiful home.

The furniture, how it smells, the view of the garden, all so familiar.

A Sunday with a bowl of soup & a blanket over our legs.

Videos on the news on how to wash your hands.

I hear about the untranslatable skindesire. Wanderlust.

The lonely are still the lonely. But for most of us this is something new.

Can we get used to this? What awaits us all? It's not Sunday, it's a random Tuesday afternoon. 

Waiting for science. Waiting until everyone has gone crazy.

No one comes to visit, we are at the mercy of each other.

Complying with the six-foot rule. The groceries from the disinfected shopping cart are slowly running out.

There we are. It has come to this point. The cafe is closed.

There is no one on the street. What day is today?

New restrictive measures are announced.

We're not allowed to shake hands and have to cough into our elbows, whatever the hell that means.

We turn on the lights.

The heating still works & we have electricity. Aren't we just very rich and should we be happy? 

There are seven home tests ready in the drawer of the dresser.

Nothing is what it seems anymore. Nothing is certain.

Except that we are sitting here, with a bowl of soup & a blanket over our legs, at the mercy of ourselves.