The door is closed and the sun is shining on the quiet streets. For the 40th day.
He started talking to the dying plant in his living room. And made friends with all kinds of imaginary creatures. He learned to listen to the absence of voices, to read the colors in his small apartment and to find beauty in the most ordinary objects.
There is an evil bug out there, keeping people indoors, highjacking their minds, and taking them to places they have never been — The darkest corners of every though, the brightest fields of creativity. And even the ever-changing labyrinths of chaos.
They say it’s a war. A war against The Evil Bug. However, this is nothing but the conquest of our own minds.
He closes his journal and walks towards the window, attracted by the warm April sun. He takes out a bright pink lipstick from the pocket of his worn-out sweatpants, carefully paints his lips, and starts dancing to the music in his head, with slow movements, like a gliding feather, feeling the warm rays of sun all over his naked torso, his arms, his face, his feet. Just imagining how that light could seep through his skin and ignite his heart.
He’s been locked down for 40 days, but he feels more free than ever.