Casa Migrante – our support never stops
door Carlita Koningstein, Casa Migrante
The frogs were hibernating throughout the winter when at last, with the first rays of the spring sun,
their annual voyage to the ponds has started.
Laying ignorantly in the mud all winter and thus being completely uninformed about the world events,
they never got a chance to hear about the coronavirus.
Taking their usual route through the fields and meadows, they stopped abruptly in surprise, only to
find out they have been overtaken.
Along the entire length of the road the face masks lay flat, their bodies adorned with numerous
patterns designed by car tires.
“This could be us” wailed the frogs,
“What phoneys!” hissed the toads.
My stories are a collection of aphorisms, anecdotes and short adventures inspired and written by the idleness of quarantine. They’re observations of a seemingly unchanging environment that hides many stories, revealed only when observed closely.
by Nezzie K.
Life will go on
Small poetic sonic events
Justus Uitermark about the social geography of corona