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Hi there! My name is Christin and I like writing. Please take a read of my short story Wishing, Waiting. I hope you consider liking and commenting!
Wishing, WaitingJun 22, 2021 1 year ago
I sit here, in the same place a sat yesterday. And the day before that. And the day before that. Wishing. Waiting. It's been a year now, hasn't it? It feels much longer... When was the last time I've been outside? I never thought I'd miss it so much - outside. Going to school, walking home, talking, laughing, seeing, being. Enjoying nature's tranquillity. Talking to the trees, listening to the wind, Feeling the crunch of dried leaves as I walk home. I miss it. Life is a cruel master but I think even he was unprepared, Not quite anticipating for the torment of his victims to fall into new hands. But COVID-19 cares for no man, wrapping around the world like a python, Squeezing us, draining us, life by life. But it's outside, we thought. Our little island is too far away, we're too far removed, we'll be fine. And, for a time, that was true. We were fine. Until we weren't. I remember the day clearly; I was working when news of the first case came in. I didn't feel scared; at the time more focused on my upcoming exams. I'll be fine, I thought. Then schools closed. Cases rose, the country became strict and, for a time, that was enough. Cases fell, they stayed down and everyone exhaled a united sigh of relief. Then the masks became beards. And come on, what's one hug? Why so serious? God is a Trini, the cases down, relax nah man! So I did, we all did, and things were fine. Until they weren't. Cases skyrocketed. Non-essentials closed, curfew enacted, State of Emergency declared. Trinidad is quieter than she's ever been, Mourning her people, some still too stubborn to face reality. The reality that God is not a Trini, that people are dying. That you need to get vaccinated, that you need to be responsible. If only they would realise that the vaccine is safe. If only they would realise that staying home is not the end. If only they would realise that all the things that they miss, the parties, the celebration, That it could be given back with some discipline, some tolerance. If only they would realise... But they don't, and as the old saying goes, 'those who don't hear, will feel'. So here I sit, through yet another online class I'm half listening to. Here I sit, looking out the window wondering when I can walk home again, Feeling the crunch of dried leaves under my shoes. I sit wondering when next I can hug my friends. I sit missing the trees and the wind's ever-changing song. Here I sit in the same place I sat yesterday. And the day before that, And the day before that. Wishing. Waiting. Waiting for the day things will return to how they were.
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