I’m beginning to wonder: when I stagger back out into the sunlight in six months, blinking blearily against the glare, my beard-hair gently tickling the top of my feet, and muttering to a half-deflated soccer-ball named Wilson… what will the rest of the world have become?
Find this article at the Spectator’s Flat White blog here: https://www.spectator.com.au/2020/04/among-all-this-oddness-weve-been-given-the-gift-of-time-lets-not-waste-it/