REST 2.0 by Esther Musembi

REST 2.0 by Esther Musembi

REST 2.0 by Esther Musembi
I knew I was dead from the way he looked at me through the sanitized looking glass. Dressed in a white bulky attire and thick goggles like a man going to the moon. He stomped around barking orders to his similarly dressed colleagues. In his eyes I was a pesky little thing that had blown up the world, and caused untold havoc from country to country. I deserved to die.
He took a green solution proffered by an unseen hand. His unblinking eyes never leaving my unshapely shape, then he put generous drops of the solution on me. It burned. It hurt so bad I felt my body folding in on itself. I wasn’t going to make it. His eyes watched as I folded in painfully, waiting for my demise. I was going to rest for a while, gain my strength and come back stronger. They would not see it coming. I’ll come back stronger and he will be my first victim.
When I come back they will be forced to give me a deserving name. A hideous scary name. Coronavirus was such a palatable name anyway. Death, would be my name.

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