We are such stuff as dreams are made on

[a parable with footnotes of how formerly normal conversations get contaminated, and how formerly normal activities are exiled to the world of dreams]

Typical exchange with son:*

Last evening:
“I want to go to the woods tomorrow.”
“Who with?”
“Friend?”
“You know we’re under lockdown now. You can’t go together.”
“I will go with him. I don’t care.”

10 minutes later:
“Friend’s mom just phoned, she thinks there’s a full curfew, so no going out tomorrow. She says you can go to them.”**
“Shit.”***
“But you actually can’t go to them because you absolutely can’t visit anyone.”
“Shit, shit.”

An hour later:
“Want to say night-night?”
“No. I’m still too angry. You have to wait.”
“Suit yourself.”

Next morning:
“Dad, wanna come to the woods with me?”
“Sorry son, can’t, got things to do. Maybe tomorrow.”
“Shit.”

(leaves the building, disappears for eight hours, takes photo you can see at the top****)

* 14, has ADHD
** currently, partial lockdown allows “individual sports activity” outdoors
*** replace with stronger expletive
**** can be trusted to stay away from everyone

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