Tales of the Pandemic
I’m writing to you from the Island of Manhattan, where I have been stranded these past six weeks. I am all alone, but now and then when I dare to journey outside (because it is utter wilderness out there), I see what I take to be footprints (?) of… others?
Very strange. It is only at seven o’clock in the evening that I hear the voices of many natives chanting and celebrating a shift change... of nurses? …Maybe.
I say “seven o’clock”. But what do I know? I do know that my concept of time has changed. I remember back to earlier days when I could not understand the genius of Albert Einstein. I remember now that in his Theory of Relativity: light, energy, and matter are constants! They are true and real!
The joker in the deck is... Time!
It seemed so unbelievable then. But now I know.
I am quite confident that I have somehow migrated to West Greenland Time (or, in other words: Newfoundland Standard Time, Atlantic Daylight Time, French Guiana Time, Uruguay Time, or Paraguay Summer Time… no wonder I’m so screwed up, I don’t even know what they call it!) But here I am. Right out here in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, though somehow still remaining on this hard rock isle.
When will it end??
Yours truly,
Robinson Crusoe
PS: Thank god it’s … Where’s Friday??
