I’m sure that they’ve heard my sobbing from the other room. It’s been a week since everything went dark. I still don’t understand what’s going on, but the truth is I don’t think anyone can. Halla and Finnr seem as lost as I am, and Aldan has stopped speaking. He’s scared. Everyone’s scared. You can feel that something is wrong. The way people look at each other, the anxious way they talk. It wreaks of desperation.
The town had a meeting yesterday. Everyone gathered in front of the whaling museum. There was a weathered couple in the middle talking to everyone. It was all in Icelandic. I looked around for Aldan, but couldn’t find him. Someone close by saw my confusion and translated for me.
They’re dividing up the rest of the food in the market. It was the most civilized process I’d ever seen. I remember watching news clips showing Black Friday in the US. Shoppers pushing, and shoving, getting into fights, all over cheap televisions. It seemed barbaric. I imagine it had more to do with population density and less to do with moral character. Animals fighting animals for resources. Except in that instance, the resource was a television. I can only imagine what would happen if they had to fight over food.
I spent the morning down at the beach, looking for nothing and everything all at once. The small marina had more people than usual for this time of day. Some were fishing, others were tending to their boats. It was quiet though. People weren’t chatting. I walked over to a man I hadn’t met who was fishing and sat down on the dock perpendicular to where he was. He looked at me and nodded, making no attempt to communicate, not that we could have, anyway. After a few awkward moments, I got up and walked off.
I’m sitting outside against the house. It’s still a bit chilly in the morning, but when the sun comes out, the world awakens. The radiant heat from the wood panels behind me warms my soul. At least for a moment. It’s easy to get lost in my emotions when I think about my family. I fear the worst, but a more rational part of me steps up announcing that everything is fine. I’m sure they’re doing fine. They have family close by, good friends and neighbors. I’m glad we decided to move out of the city. I’d be a lot more stressed if she was in the city.
It’s difficult to not be in control for once. Not that I was ever in control, but I felt like I had a pretty good handle on things. I’m kidding myself. It’s laughable to think that we have any control at all. We’re all hurtling through space in an infinite universe, clawing our way out of the mire. What a miserable existence.