As some of you probably noticed, I don't post sketches on social media anymore.
No, I didn't escape or run away like some suggested. I just have some stuff to do in London. pandemics paralyzed many things, but life goes on. My bill providers know that, yours probably too.
So I kept a diary of my experience of a movement in the time of CORVID.
Departure launch. It's empty here like a war zone. Like in a si-fi movie when hero enters abandoned building from another era. And the enemy is you. Yes, you. It hangs in the air. You did nothing wrong. You are healthy. But... You dared to come here at all. Even with the paperwork. You dared to come and by that showed the disobedience.
Moving slowly like a guilty flock of sheep until we came to a designated seat. Which has nothing to do with one meter separation.
It was packed as airplanes usually are.
On the other side the only difference to immigration control, a huge packed queue was the sign that you are not allowed to take photos. Or maybe it was there before, but there was no queue so I didn't have time to read it.
Now I'm self isolating myself. It's OK. Government calls me daily, it's nice to feel that someone is there after.. aghm.. sorry.. for you all the time.
My place met me with many letters that arrived over my absence. Most of them were very angry letters about something not being paid, and they were getting angrier and angrier as dates ascended. As I was not supposed to pay what was said anyway, I just binned them. Though I did think of those who are really in trouble with payments. Such harassment itself can drive a fragile person fully mad.
One of the most angry ones was from TV licensing. They demanded to buy it and threatened to check, catch, and prosecute me. All in red. I haven't got a TV for a few years now and have no intention of getting one. None at all. I called and asked them. They politely avoid answering the question.