He is at home

Peeping through the curtains

Blue light spinning around the walls

Of what he called his sitting room

Although he had never had one soul come to visit

And sit in the sitting room during the twenty years he’d lived there.

Then the door is thumped again.

He looked down at two figures in long black coats

Clip board in black gloved hand

With masks to match,

A chilly night indeed.

Black helmets to keep their heads warm

Or protected from the non conformists,

A size growing in size and fury.

He shouted down

What do you want?

They read out my name, birth and informed me that

I had come in contact with a person

Who was positive

And they told me from down in the blasted street

That I had to stay at home for 10 days.

They’d be back to check.

As their car moved out of view, he pulled the curtains together

And turned to his confused labrador pup and said

“If I can’t go out, neither can you”.

He went into his bathroom and filled his bath with warm water

And when it was deep enough he picked up and kissed the dog on his forehead

And dropped him into the bath.

As the dog yelped the man stripped and stepped into the water

Beside his pet, closed his eyes and pushed the animal down

Until all movement had faded.

And he said,”O little puppy, I hardly knew you,

But this place is no use to you

Nor me”.

And left him there.

He stepped out of his bath and looking through a pile of towels

Found the longest and lightest

And twisted it tightly, then made a noose which he hung from the bathroom door.

Didn’t ever find out the guy’s name

Or occupation or interests or why he did it.

There were signs that he struggled

Marks and scratches on his neck,

But he lost again

Or won, his freedom,

Depending on your point of view.

And outside in the dead of night

There was a raucous banging of wooden spoons on skillets

And cheers and lots of applause

For the Healthcare workers

Who had died helping the dying,

Then it ended. A silence.

The two dark figures arrived at another house

Then another then another

And they didn’t know what was happening

Or where it started

They were just doing their jobs.

Never ending

That’s the scary part.

Categories: Blog, Poem, Poetry, Uncategorized, Virus

Tags: Death, Dystopian, Hopelessness