A Virus in a Colour

He looked up, eyes half closed. He was surrounded by his not-so-official girlfriend, a professional nurse and a male friend of his. They all surrounded his bed, as if they were not scared of death. The coronavirus is teaching all of us, it's teaching each one of us each passing moment and forcefully. It was a hospital with clean sheets, and an average level of light was filling up his room. Health system has been a question for quite some time for him\; should it have been public of private? What did everybody else do, and what was the right thing to do? All these questions melted into the background when he started loosing the physical capacity which connects everyone of use to the beauties in life, everyday: the everyday beauties, like a simple daffodil or the foam on your coffee. 

An unknown but really bright star has lit up the sky last night. The fear of being in the public stayed with everyone, where they were. They were under the roofs of their homes, inside their flats. They were holding on to the forms of understanding, which took long years to shape. They have not shaped them themselves, not all of them. Perhaps a certain amount of questioning went into the process of growing up, but then we all did. Until cover-19 started teaching us another kind of life, one which is filled with fear: the fear of death, the fear of proximity. 

What else has had fear within its toolbox? Now Covid is the universal ennemi-public but had there not been so many real and not so real terrorists, true and fake news in the past? While one worries about laying in a dirty hospital bed in the developing world, one hardly ever finds the emotional space to cultivate a little tree for positive future construction. Neither does the present present itself in all its true colours: the roses and the pinks, its flow with the blue and the transitions hid behind the shapeless shape of the unknown word in dark grey: Covid.