“What else will I need?”

​

“Just that will be enough.”

​

I finish filling my drink bottle and prepare myself for the unknown, not knowing if I will come out alive.

​

“I need to go to the toilet,” I yell out to my father.

​

“Fine, but be quick,” he replies.

​

I dawdle to the toilet, trying to slow down time even though I know it's a hopeless attempt. I take as long as I can in the bathroom. I wash my hands. I wash them as slowly as possible. The time’s nearly up before I have to enter a life or death situation.

​

I creep down the hallway until I reach the door.

​

“Finally!” my father says.

I’m now ready for this challenge, knowing I could catch the Corona. I step out the door with my father for our very first evening jog.

We start off without much pace, nearly walking.

My senses work better than usual and I have full 360º degree vision. I’m constantly alert for anyone, or anything, around me. I hear the tweets and squawks of the birds in the sky. Cats meow as we pass by. I hear my father’s heavy breaths as we run on. We’ve picked up our pace.

​

Oh no! my eyes tell my brain.

​

An unknown species, a zombie, is approaching us. I wish for a weapon, or even to not be out on this jog. I close my eyes and brace for an attack that doesn’t come.

I look back at what has just passed. Not a zombie. Not an unidentified specimen. But another human, another jogger, just like my father and me. But that one could have had the virus.

​

“Close call,” I murmur.

​

I pray silently for a measuring tape, or ruler at least, to keep others a good metre or two away from me.

We turn a bend and my house is in sight. I sprint towards my shield, my safe place, but see an entire family in the distance creeping towards us, like darkness that blocks the sunlight as it turns to night.

I jog onto the road. The risk of getting hit by a car weighs on my mind, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take. I don’t have much time to ponder these thoughts as I remember my father still behind me.

​

I yell out to him to run on the road, trying to save him from this oncoming horde of potential virus carriers.

​

He swerves onto the road, just as they are about to reach him. Another close call.

Feeling thoroughly relieved, I sprint with all of the willpower and energy I have left to reach my destination. I am so close, nothing can stop me. Not zombies, not cars, not my fear. Nothing.

​

I’m finally on the familiar driveway I've trodden many times before. I did it. Mission Impossible has been completed. I’ve survived the harsh wilderness and reality of this Covid world.