So infinitesimally small it can climb through the thin membrane making stock dummies out of a terrified folk… Far worse than the virus itself is the fear it harvests in the minds of its victims. Their blood is cold as ice but their terror is real and vivid - Hot red against the backdrop of a lush tropical climate Like a pistol, the thermometer gun doles out its stark but unspeakable punishment, the guilty whisked away to perhaps die a death oh so painfully alone. The aching aloneness of quarantine is perhaps a punishment worse than a peaceful death among friends… Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome, we bask in the terror that has been created in your wake. [Written while SARS was ravaging
0303-TIN
© May 2008 Nachtschimmen
Music-Theatre-Language Nightshades,
Ghent (Belgium)
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