Quarantined

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"Quarantined"

by: Wes Robert Ward

Be warned while being quarantined, the mind plays terrible tricks. You see the brain is not just a thinking machine, but also meatloaf with ketchup on top.

Yes, I know it sounds like what Dr. Hannibel Lecter would have for lunch, but seriously our old noggins in the head could cause hallucinations and bring out our imagination.

Right now I am seeing Oompa-Loompas and they're singing, "Don't be afraid to go outside, if you do then you might possibly die... Oompa-Loompa, tweedle dee dee, we'll dig your grave and bury thee."

My microwave and toaster are having conversations. My refrigerator gets freaky with my stove late at night. And my television pops on at midnight like in 'The Poltergeist' with a snowy static picture and says to me to come inside it's safer here.

I step outside. I sit in the late night cool air and listen to the night noises... none. It's quiet as a tomb. I live next to the interstate and I don't hear a lot of traffic, maybe a semi truck going by once every 15 minutes or so, but other than that it's an eerie silence.

It seems everyone is staying home avoiding the virus like many. Apocalypse now is what pops in my wandering mind as I look at the stars in the sky with a half moon. Thinking out loud and suddenly Jim Morrison of 'The Doors' appears before me in a swaggy white puffy shirt and black leather pants with no shoes, barefoot, and he's slowly singing, "This is the end, beautiful friend. This is the end, my only friend, the end..."

Then Pete's Dragon shows up and I laugh at the big stupid green beast before me, "Elliott, you want to go have an adventure?" And he flaps his purple wings excitedly and off we run into the woods looking to kick some skunks.

And suddenly I'm in my own home again looking at a blank wall. My imagination ran away with itself again it seems. I go to the kitchen sink and slap some cold water on my face and say to myself, "It will go away, like any other plague before us, it will go away."

What is more fearsome is if reality hits us harder than our imagination. If I hear outside my door a man pulling a wooden cart with a horse neighing and ringing a bell and yelling, "Bring out your dead!!!" DING "Bring out your dead!!!" DING.

If I hear that... is it real or my imagination?

The End??? \ud83d\ude33

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