The Basement Diaries 05
Kyiv - 31 December 2022
New Year's Eve. 04:00, in - or is it on? - my rack, tucked into my sleeping bag. In the bunker.
Maybe I should just re-title these The Bunker Diaries...
New Year's Eve. No parties or Grand Ball this year though, to be fair, they had dropped off most people's social calendar during the worst days of the pandemic. Strange to think of those as the good old days, when our deadly enemy was, usually, invisible and was killing us without trying to destroy our hospitals and schools, our electricity generating plants and transmission sub-stations. When, if you were bold enough or stupid enough, you could ignore the regulations, challenge the virus and party til you dropped. There was always a party.
It all seems so long ago. And those of us sensible enough to have avoided death by COVID now face death by drone and missile. So be it.
I am not on standby tonight, so I will go back to the basement to spend New Year's Eve "at home".
New Year's Eve. 04:00, in - or is it on? - my rack, tucked into my sleeping bag. In the bunker.
Maybe I should just re-title these The Bunker Diaries...
New Year's Eve. No parties or Grand Ball this year though, to be fair, they had dropped off most people's social calendar during the worst days of the pandemic. Strange to think of those as the good old days, when our deadly enemy was, usually, invisible and was killing us without trying to destroy our hospitals and schools, our electricity generating plants and transmission sub-stations. When, if you were bold enough or stupid enough, you could ignore the regulations, challenge the virus and party til you dropped. There was always a party.
It all seems so long ago. And those of us sensible enough to have avoided death by COVID now face death by drone and missile. So be it.
I am not on standby tonight, so I will go back to the basement to spend New Year's Eve "at home".
