COVID-19 diary 24/3/20



A DAY

Then I’m awake. No, I can’t even say that: “then”. Erase that. Because “then” implies there was a before, a before that contained what? well, I can’t remember. I can’t recall a before. But I think there was. If so – if there was a before – it may have included my death, and before even that, my life. Whatever that amounted to. So I’m told. But who told me? Nobody told me anything. There isn’t anybody. Or is there? So why have I convinced myself that I awoke? That I am awake? But I am. And if I awoke, what did I awake from? Darkness has given way, is giving way, slowly and yet surely, to light. And yet? Light is ever so slow in coming, but I think it is, I think on the left hand side. There is differentiation. There is definitely light of some kind, outlining what? Pale sunlight, is it, a brilliant crescent of it? Light, anyway, penetrating the universe, shining here more brightly, there less. It’s white, but there’s gold in it, there’s blue there too, I’m aware of blue, moving ever so slightly, which makes me think there is a breeze, perhaps the window is half open – I don’t remember opening it – and the window is huge and incandescent. So there’s a window! We’re making a little progress here. A window. Opening onto to what? A sea of pale blue with white ripples around, an ocean to move through? A world? Am I on a world, or in one? But what country am I in? Does it have a name? Have I? Surely I have to have name? What day is it? Are these questions? Is this a day? A day is a day. I’m writing about it. But actually this is the day on which I write this. Let’s number it day one. So what day was it when I awoke? Day one. That’s what I’m trying to make sense of.  

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Not The Jungle Book

How Secret Orbit came to be written

from THE GREY AREA: The Old Dick