A letter from February 1st, 2021

Dear FutureMe, Its February, it's almost your 43rd birthday, we're in lockdown again and you just passed panel for adoption. Life is bizarre, the urgency of the virus, infections and *****, the sorrow of the damage caused by incompetent white men and the banality of the same day, every day. I miss swimming and friends, esp entertaining and cooking lush meals for people. I miss going to the pub and the cinema, and variety, choice and autonomy. I hope when you read this the past and the pandemic will feel like a distant fever dream and you'll again remember how lucky you are to be free. You'll be a parent too. Good luck.