Todays little typing exercise:

When the lockdowns (I call them lockups , it's a more accurate) went mental in Ireland, the "rule" (because later it was admitted that these were rules and not laws when politicians were found to be flaunting them, despite members of the public being harrassed and fined) was that you couldn't go more than 8 kilometres from your house or something thereabouts.

I decided fuck this , I'm going to cycle to meet a freind of mine, despite checkpoints (typing this reminds me how fucking dystopian the lockups were) being set up every couple of towns or so .

On my way there , I had a story in my head that I could relay to people if I was asked where I was from and what I was doing: "I'm from {insert last town that I passed} and I'm doing a spot of bird watching .

The fear of being out and about was palpable , and people out walking, young and old, were fearful when they seen someone else coming, they might get ratted out to the covid-Stazi.

Halfway to where I was going to meet my friend, as I was passing a stone-strewn highland crossroads, I meet two men , who were also cycling, one tall and one short and both wearing an excessive amount of expensive cycling gear, which I can't help but judge people for. I myself was riding a rickety old bike that is held together with little more that hope and duct-tape . As the two men began to slow down , I anticipated that they wanted to have a chat with me about this thing or the other . This was unusual under this climate of fear, most people avoided conversation for fear of what people might think of them "breaking the rules" , so I braced myself for what the converstion might entail .

It began amicably , a brief discussion of the weather, a comment or two about cycling , it all felt fairly normal . Then the tall guy adjusted his expensive cycling glasses to give me a cold stare. "Where are you from" he said to me , the levity had gone out of his manner of speech. The shorter man noticed this and began to hang his head. "I'm from {the town that came before}, I'm going to {forest where I had to agreed to meet my friend} to be a bit of bird-watching, I replied . The shorter man interjected with " we better be off now, getting late", but the taller mans eyes continued to meet mine , and mine his.

"There's plenty of forests in {town that I had said I was from} , why would you go out of your way to go to {place where I was to rendezvous with my friend}?" Upon hearing his question I leaned in closer to him, because I already detested this type of behavior that was the hallmark of the "covidian"; a proclivity for vitriolic pedantry and I wanted him to get a sense of how I felt about his rubbernecking. Slowly , laboring over each movement of my mouth I said "deciduous forests have different kinds of birds".

Then the taller man said something that to this day I regard as highly unusual, he said : "I think all this covid stuff is good, the earth needs it".

The shorter man then put his hand on the taller mans back and ushered him to set off again.

I remember how tightly my hands were gripping the handle bars of my bicycle. I wanted to give him a beating.