by At around six I called the elderly couple on the sixth floor, so I could pop up there and give them a box of chocolates. If I happen to have pre-symptomatic coronavirus, I probably gave them that as well. That would be terrible. The lady answered and said she’d call me back when she was properly dressed. All I wanted to do was leave the chocolates outside their door. I’d just finished my dinner when she called me back. I went up there, was invited in, and there was a table laid out. Oh no. What do I do now? I ended up eating some pască (which is a Romanian sweet bread filled with raisins and other fruit) and two big pieces of something like a rum baba. It was lovely to eat some typical Romanian Easter food, and it was good to speak Romanian, but I couldn’t relax. All I could think of was the bloody virus. I really should have made it clear on the phone that I wouldn’t be coming in. People have picked up this thing from courier deliveries, and here I was sitting with a couple aged nearly 80 and 90, both with a list of medical conditions as long as my arm, for more than an hour.
The couple are quite religious and have been on pilgrimages to Israel. When I mentioned that tomorrow was my birthday, the woman talked about all the round numbers. Yes, tomorrow there will be zeros everywhere I look.
