clinging to the wreckage

Train at Boston’s South Station New York Bryant Park Central Park In the midst of the pandemic, desperate to get away from home for at least a couple of days, I took the opportunity to book a train journey from Boston to New York. I’d met an architect on a dating app just before the pandemic set in and we had become friends in spite of not being able to meet due to lockdowns. Also, she had met someone locally in New York during the pandemic and was now in a relationship. Nevertheless, she suggested that we meet anyway as we had been chatting for almost a year. Thus, on Saturday morning, the 19 th  of December, I awoke at 6am, had a shower, dressed, and walked to the station at the end of my street where I took the metro to Boston’s South Station. We had experienced a snowstorm that Wednesday and, as a result, everything was covered in snow. It seemed to be the case each time I was travelling to New York.             At South Station I had a short wait before boarding the beautiful Amtr

  We had met a few weeks before, during a fire alarm and evacuation of the building. During the evacuation, we were standing outside next to one of the fire engines when some random guy, shirtless and maskless, started to shout at the firemen, asking them if they thought they were heroes for rushing to a building that had no fire. Fortunately for him, they ignored him. ‘Did you see that guy?’ she asked me? I felt self-conscious because I was wearing soccer shorts without underwear and a tight grey t-shirt (I had just showered a few moments before the alarm went off.) ‘Yes, I can’t believe his behaviour. And, of course, he was wearing no mask.’ ‘I feel a bit stupid too,’ she said, ‘I left my cat alone inside.’ I responded, ‘It will be fine, just deaf.’ She laughed. At that moment, a British couple heard me and, detecting my British accent, started to chat to me… the beautiful lady was lost as she walked up the stairs beyond my floor towards her apartment, wherever that was. As I thought

There is a pain that comes with parties. It has nothing to do with age necessarily, it evolves throughout life, it stems from primitive instincts such as desire, competition, mating and strength. It surprises me, in my forties, to see people still playing the mating game at parties. I am not sure if they even recognise it. I’m also not quite sure if people sincerely believe themselves when they say things such as ‘oh, he is married, he is not interested in her.’ I am guessing that those who say such things have never read the great literary works of the past two or three centuries.             So, the morning after the party, I awake with a headache… a hangover. Getting out of bed, I grab a bottle of coca cola from the fridge, my sunglasses and facemask from the breakfast bar, and slowly make my way down to the swimming pool. At the pool, I laze in the shade of the hot day and dive into the cool water to alleviate the hangover. Sipping the coca cola and slowly feeling life return, I no

They lay side by side, basking in sinful glory. The unrelenting sun beating down upon their black bikinis, providing sharp contrast to their pale and yet browning skin. Around them, men glance in desirous torment. The world is blossoming, and life is returning in all of its forms. People speak of 2020 like it is a failure and is already over. Yes, many people have suffered, and many are scared, but it has been an opportunity to reflect and consider and change. We are about to open up in a way we have never done before… and we will no longer take things for granted. It is like being healthy again after a long sickness or finally completing your exams and being free from study and restriction. Everything that had become boring and routine will now be treated with reverence. Life is painful… but to feel pain is to be alive. From pain we are able to create. And, somehow, we must try to find the strength to carry on, no matter what. There are so many grand levellers. There is nature. P

I’d cycled to the nearby square to buy wine and a few groceries. It was a stifling hot June day in Cambridge, Massachusetts, and all the young people were out protesting the recent killing of George Floyd by a police officer in Minneapolis. Cars passed through the protest, hooting in appreciation, and probably terrified of having their cars damaged if they acted any other way. When I emerged from the liquor store there was a commotion in the street. I’d been expecting it. Someone had walked through the protestors shouting and screaming at them. Of course, there was retaliation, and everyone was angry… as people so often seem to be. I took a longer route back to my bicycle and cycled towards my apartment. Arriving at the small reservation pond across from my building, I stopped to see the Canadian Geese and their Goslings as they gathered around the area between the pond and the bike path. After a few minutes I made my way back onto the path and started to cross next

She told me that I need to pray to God. Actually, it was more directly ‘you need pray God’ in her strong Korean accent. I asked her why it was that she felt I needed to pray to God. I couldn’t help but laugh as I asked. ‘To find a good woman.’ I told her that ‘I don’t want a good one, I want a bad one.’ It was a conversation held in my kitchen. She was already wearing her coat and was about to leave when she began to ask me if there was anyone in my life. She had arrived just three hours earlier. When she stepped out of the taxi, I was somewhat shocked by her appearance. She was wearing black lace stockings that came up to the middle of her thighs and a red dress that was barely long enough to cover her underwear, which was open enough at the top to make it abundantly clear that she was not wearing a bra. I’d wondered why the taxi driver had made the effort of walking around the car and opening the door for her, but now it was clear. He stared at me with a look that seemed to say,

The second week of April began, and most people had been in quarantine or self-isolation since mid-March at the latest. It seemed that, finally, something of a calm had settled over everyone. Most people were describing feelings of de-motivation or laziness. Personally, I felt that everyone had finally come to accept that we weren’t necessarily all going to die with our lungs bleeding in a red lava from our mouths, and we weren’t going to completely run out of food or alcohol or toilet paper. People had even accepted that, if they hadn’t already, they probably weren’t going to lose their jobs. The last two weeks of March had been frantic, as people scurried and prepared to work from home whilst we in IT tried to support them, prepare our systems for the sudden barrage of remote traffic, engage our teams to remain calm, positive, and hopeful, and manage the panic that trickled down from above. This is because the worst panic seemed to occur amongst those w