Covid Cheesecake

(From "Covid Cheesecake")

 

AFTER TWO MONTHS IN isolation from COVID-19, Ola and Helen met up again in Greenleaf Park, a quiet space behind a new development of townhouses and care homes in Pimlico. From opposite benches, both women looked up suspiciously as a plane flew overhead. A squirrel ran halfway down a tree, spotted humans, and shot up again.

 

“God! Finally, some brief escape from all this globally-sanctioned imprisonment!” Helen inhaled with gusto. “I do believe all my senses have improved. I can smell toffee, coffee, strawberries, ice-cream, mmm, daisies, daffodils. Bees buzzing; someone whistling. How about you, babes?”

 

Ola pointed a plump finger. “I can see a 125lb white female jogger, twenty-five and asymptomatic. You’re the antithesis of every vulnerable cohort. Your target demographic is everyone else.”

 

Helen shrugged. “Not my fault. Also, you know I have chronic asthma. I must admit, I haven’t used my inhaler once. In fact, I think I could probably run a marathon. How’s it left you?”

 

Ola’s shrug mirrored her friend’s. “Like Liam Neeson—with a very particular set of skills. When I was looking out the window, I started seeing people’s auras. Thought I’d either gone bonkers or reached a higher level, what with all those meditation classes on Zoom. Then I realised that what I was actually seeing was the virus. It was entering peoples’ bodies and hacking them. I was literally witnessing The Invasion of the Body Snatchers.”