I have to admit: there is something weird (not to say unsettling) about leaving your house after being hidden inside for four full days in a row (isn’t this unprovoked alliteration lovely? Maybe not, but I’m feeling like it is, just for a moment). The front garden is in full bloom: tiny wild tulips, pinkish pale and raggedy, are wiggling next to clear white giants, lily-flowered ones. I would definitely take a pic the other day, but not now: we should “do important things” first. Which simply means that we need to do some basic shopping: the whole process more and more feels like an ordeal.
The streets are empty, but now we have accepted it as a part of a new routine—nothing unusual, just the normal state of things. Of course, it’s not: the contrast between the sunshine, marvellous (although a bit chilly) weather and emptiness is striking and mind-boggling. But never mind.
Our nearest Co-op looks even emptier than a few days ago: even shelves with herbs and spices are cleared out, and who the hell would stockpile those? We don’t know. There are no basic goods, toothpaste and such, either: well, at least folks will be clean, we are joking, although the jokes seem to sound a bit forced.
We are wandering around our neighbourhood, making a mile or so: sometimes we see people on the streets, and nearly all of them wear masks. We all remember about the whole distancing thing, and everyone does it without any trouble, as if it was introduced a while ago. Something is odd about this as well. Maybe the fact that we all got used to it so quickly.
Another Co-op, Tesco: no success with our shopping list. Yet again, no flour, no mouthwash (I need it more often now, due to my Invisalign treatment), no salt (!). I am feeling stupid again, as if I made another flashback to my post-Soviet teen years: what next – matches? soap? Give me a break, ugh.
Finally, we got lucky in a “big” Sainsbury’s: they even have wholemeal flour! And even two bags! But L. decided to be generous and left one bag for someone else (would they do the same for him I wonder? I doubt it, but I am a cynical one here anyway).
On the way from the store I spotted a stall with newspapers of different sorts, mostly tabloids: their headlines sound surprisingly similar—praise the NHS and its heroes. I find it moving.
The streets on the way home look gorgeous and remain silent, and it makes my heart ache a bit—how long could it be like that? It would be better to be over soon. I don’t like it like that, I definitely do not. But what can I do?.. Nothing.
The small Chinese takeaway, which we both love, is also shut down. “Stay home. Stay safe,” its note says, “we can fight it.” We should, I guess. We also bought paracetamol, which means that we are on the way.
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