IT’S June 28 as I write this. It’s been three long, uncertain, slow months since the ECQ (enhanced community quarantine) slammed the door on mall visits and loitering.
At this point, let me tell you, this ECQ has made our world even smaller every day. To widen it, my friends and I keep in touch through texting. Here’s a sample, not tampering too much with the style.
My friend Rosse texted: Spending more during ECQ than before.
Me: Yup, buying panic supplies and cellphone load to keep the lines alive.
Rosse: Can’t afford being locked down from friends—the world.
Me: Drama queen LOL.
J, an old friend, texted: D’you think we’re gonna revert to OT protocol warning people of our presence, this time shouting “Make way” as we wave a card?
Me: You’ll be ostracized.
J insisted: OT protocol?
Me: Try DCM protocol or develop compassion and mercy.
My friend M texted: Will we carry a quarantine pass riddled with many details?
Me: Not likely or all we’ll ever do is stare at each other’s chest.
M: Is that bad?
Me: Boys will get slapped by girls more often.
M: LOL yeah.
Rosse texted: What’s the color of Covid-19?
J came back: Got only P30, can’t go to the bank, no PUJ.
Me: I have a dream: A weekly mobile bank for savings, ATM or passbook withdrawals etc.
J: Beautiful dream. How about for old folks like you?
Me: Ouch! But yeah, I dream of the dawn we oldies will have the freedom to do things ourselves. We’ll behave.
M texted: Thanks for making me LOL.
Rosse: Keep in text, uh, touch.
J: You need to go on living no matter what age.
Me: Funny but profound. Good night.
J: Good night, profoundly beautiful dreamer.
Me: Profoundly LOL.