So last May, the 5th to be exact, I wrote this short story to represent how I was feeling during the first few weeks of lock down. In primary school we had to read a book called The Phantom Tollbooth, and all I remember was that 1. I hated it, 2. They lived in a place called the Doldrums which was the most monotonous, boring place ever. Somehow, I sat with my thoughts for a minute and jotted this down. Flash forward to a year later, we’re back here again…in the Doldrums.

time.

6am: Birds begin to chatter, waking up their neighbours as if to say- it’s another day.

They ask themselves, how long has it been since we’ve been here?

Even more importantly, how long will we stay?

Light trickles through the windows, dancing on the wall. Eyes open and it’s another day.

I ask myself, how long has it been since we’ve been here?

Even more importantly, how long will we stay?

Midday arrives in a flash and the blazing sun makes way for an ominous black sky above an endless horizon. Clouds dark and full, ready to burst.

They ask themselves, how long has it been since we’ve been here?

Even more importantly, how long will we stay?

They pass, as all things do and fade into a pink and orange cotton candy sky above that endless horizon. The blazing sun has now gone to bed, making room for her beautiful big friend.

The outside lights turn on automatically, earlier and earlier with each day.

They ask themselves, how long has it been since we’ve been here?

Even more importantly, how long will we stay?

Head hits the pillow. Heavy and full of thoughts. It’s another day.

Days are counted by how many times I wash the coffee pot, I feel like I’ve been here before. At least 100 times.

I ask myself, how long has it been since we’ve been here?

Even more importantly, how long will we stay?