Too much isolation, not enough celebration.
Quarantine Summer
We’re not the only ones who are lonely
The Sun rose high on a glorious Fourth of July, stretched and yawned, and opened his shining eye. His light slowly reflected off the calmness of the lake ready for one more day of keeping watch for man’s sake.
He looked around at the pristine beach anticipating the crowds of individuals, each with the same anticipation of a glorious day spent celebrating freedom in the usual way.
“Good morning, Mr. Beach. Ready for the great event?” Sun, expecting a happy reply, was surprised to hear the beach vent. “There will be nothing of the sort, I’m afraid, Mr. Sun. The humans are dying, their fevers high they run.”
The Sun was aghast, expecting nothing of the sort. “What do you mean, Mr. Beach? Look at the court. Madam Volleyball is ready, her net is so tight, The lines of the boundaries just make this feel right.”
Madam Volleyball spoke, then, and confirmed the sad news. “It is true, Mr. Sun, what Mr. Beach said. Your golden hues And rays of yellow shine will fall untouched into Mother Earth The mothers and fathers, and babies in dearth.”
Madam Lake was nearby, waves rolling gently to shore. Upon hearing this news, wave after wave, inviting before, Began roiling and boiling and crashing ashore, the deafening sound Growing closer to a roar as it pounded the ground.
“What is this?” she demanded, as if her angry waves weren’t enough. “I need my humans to frolic and play,” she said in her voice so gruff. “They need to immerse in my life refreshing essence, and I need to feel Their happiness and joy and reveling in being free.”
A voice out of no where, lovingly embraced them all. “Oh, children of mine, your beneficence stands tall during this trying time for our wards. We must keep them safe from this evil they face.”
Mother Gaia spoke of honor and the future, and throughout the day, random humans came forth to immerse in the bay. It was a sad sight to see, for the elementals, and me.
To stand there and watch as the days passed them by, as humans fought valiantly, yet some chose to die. As seasons passed on, to be enjoyed only by some All of it for nothing, or for the love of freedom.
Chuck Roast tries to write Satire and Humor. Sometimes other stuff, too. This is some of that “other stuff.” But one thing he likes is comments from readers to interact with. Please feel free to leave a comment, Or, if you write your own story about your quarantine or isolation loneliness, please tag me. I’d love to read them, and comment back to you.
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