I woke up with a strange feeling of rest, so unusual that I assumed I had fallen asleep. Still without opening my eyes I perceived a certain nervousness in the environment, which was partially drowned out by the blinds in my room.
I sharpened my ears to try to decipher the origin and meaning of those sounds, distantly familiar, but absolutely unprecedented since the day the confinement was decreed. A mixture of murmurs, small roars and anarchic screams, which in this context could only mean one thing. And opening my eyes suddenly I understood that something serious had happened.
I quickly tried to reach the mobile on the bedside table, but I remembered that I had not put it to charge and, indeed, it had run out of battery. Then I made out more clearly the sound of broken glass, sirens, and what appeared to be gunshots; and crawling on the floor I slipped to the window.
Uncovering the curtain just enough space to peer out, I looked down and realized that the action was taking place on a different street than mine. However, I saw several young people, covering their faces with masks, who ran towards the end of the street, while they encouraged other people to join. From the balconies, some applauded and encouraged them and others threw insults and the odd object.
Eager to know what was going on, I ran into the living room to turn on the television, but there was no signal. On the other side of the door, on the landing, doors slammed, more screaming, and the frantic noise of footsteps hurtling down the stairs. For a moment I was paralyzed not knowing what to do.
I ran back to my room to put on my slippers, as the mixture of curiosity and uncertainty prevented me from staying one more second at home. On the way I stopped at a small radio that I had on the shelf and tried my luck.
Amid noises and interferences, I managed to find the broken voice of an announcer who, between screams, told how a coordinated attack in the middle of the night had managed to sabotage almost all of the city’s telecommunications.
Suddenly, like someone waking up from a long hypnosis, thousands of citizens became aware of a situation that they had ended up assuming indolently and that was already taking longer than it should have. It was necessary to cut the invisible technological thread that kept their minds hyperconnected to a new reality, unable to react to an abuse that subjected their lives to dependency.
And so it was, about 163 days later, we all woke up with a strange feeling of rest, so unusual, that we assumed we had fallen asleep.
«Somethin ‘filled up my heart with nothin’,
Someone told me not to cry»