Mystery on the High Seas: The Isolated Lockdown of a Modern-Day Landlubber
As I sit here, pondering over the strange times we’ve all been living through, it strikes me how verbose the sky becomes when the ground grows extraordinarily silent. But here’s the kicker—how did we transition from bustling cityscapes to empty squares where nature has shed its polite veil and is now brazenly misbehaving? And if our worlds have suddenly turned spherical, what’s with this lingering flatness in our perception, in our lives?
This circle of thoughts brings us neatly to the heart of a piece, succinctly titled “Lockdown Limbo Landlubber,” where one tries to make sense of this metamorphosis, watching as seagulls engage in their own version of pub patrol, rummaging through what scraps of society remain. Can the ‘after-world’—whatever that may mean—truly hold onto our stories, our last whispered words? More importantly, is inscribing ‘They’re after you’ on your walls your literary legacy or simply a testament to having too much time on lockdown hands?
Join us as this article, tattered round the edges, unfurls its peculiar queries and pithy bird chats, wrapped in an ambiguous cloak of subconscious grappling. Dare to ask, dare to wonder, dare to LEARN MORE.I wait for my world to go round
after ages being flat.
With people far away, nature has a field day.
Seagulls raid empty squares vying with rubbish-rummaging rats.
