Don’t you dare come any closer. That is all that I ask.
I don’t care what Boris says. Stay away without a mask.
Covid is still a thing. No matter what Tories say.
I feel for the NHS, who’ve kept this thing at bay.
But now with wards filling again, it makes no sense to me,
That we’re opening up just about everything just to let the bug run free.
Padre
He was in Liege; or was it Rotterdam? Hell, I don’t even know what country I’m in any more, he mused. Adam Golding had spent the last three months shuttling around Europe for the WHO. It was an endless stream of visits with local health officials, and hospital administrators. Frankly, it was all becoming a blur.
He was tired and the day hadn’t even really started yet. He glanced at his itinerary, and then at his watch. Okay, this is Rotterdam, he mused. Three hours till I meet with the committee. The sooner we get the vaccinations done, the better. I need a rest.
He jumped into the shower, and then dressed. A quick breakfast?” he thought. No, just coffee, he decided and flicked on the kettle in his room. Sometimes I wish I had become a vet like Dad, he thought reflectively, then shook his head at the thought. No, at least I’m making a difference, he concluded. I hope.
Padre
FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER: 2021: WEEK #05
Winter’s come amid the mounting snow
But even without it – there’s no place to go
Doors are closed against the blight
There just seems – no end in sight
As if it were the the cold winds that blow
When it will end? Well I don’t know
Padre
Happy days out in November
Enjoying brief moments outside
A little break from the Covid indoor hide
Padre
Thousands of classrooms empty
For ministers – scientific advice did spurn
Now there aren’t enough older teachers left
To help the nation’s students learn
Padre
Toyland’s beaches have reopened and they’ve opened the toy box lid
They all rushed to the seaside
Just like post-Covid parents and their kids
Padre
Self-isolation – the creation of strain
But it hasn’t always been a pain.
Do you remember back – when alone you’d say
Was merely called “just getting away?”
Oh how things now have changed
We claim that isolation is deranged
But as we face closed doors and rations
Remember that being alone was one in fashion
Padre
“The field was player-less. The board was scoreless. The School Board and health officials clueless.” What other way could Coach Tom Howard sum up the situation in what had been intended to be his retirement year?
Tom gritted his teeth as another cough ripped through his aching lungs. Each breath was an agony, and gave him the sensation of inhaling broken glass.
“Go ahead with practice,” he had been advised. “Teenagers are low risk carriers.”
Well in his book, that was “a fumble of epic proportions.” Now he only hoped to see next season. “Fingers crossed, and go for the Hail Mary,” he whispered to himself.
Padre
With news of a second Corona spike, and further lock-downs imminent, Justin had had enough.
After a brief search of of the internet, he concluded that New Zealand was the place to be. But how? he pondered. The airlines weren’t taking reservations, and he wasn’t sure about visas, even if they were. Then it stuck him – eBay, that’s the answer! Now, to find a buyer.
Padre
Pixabay
A whole new world is open to us
To sate our pent-up – wanderlust
Think back to the month of May
When the choice was the lounge
Or the bedroom to stay
Now new opportunities come into view
I can go to the shop and bowling alley too
And what are those things flying over us
They’re just birds –
Let’s not get too ambitious
Padre
FOWC with Fandango — Wanderlust
Padre's Ramblings 