Tuesday, April 28, 2020

Novel Virus Novel

Journalist Bill Grueskin asked Twitter “What’s the first sentence of the best novel that will be written about this epidemic?”

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a COVID-19 test, a reliable and prompt food-delivery service, a full Netflix queue, and a 48-pack of Charmin. (@rapoportmike)

At first we noticed the birds. Maybe they had always been there, maybe it was just the spring migration, but in any case their cheery calls filled the space normally claimed by the metallic roaring of the morning commute. (@Myrmecos)

We carried it in our hands, laying it on doorknobs and cans of beans, there was no smell of death, no taste, when we brought it to our lips and thus unaware, we breathed the killer in, and out. (@gotaimnow)

Ah, toilet roll. I remember that cylindrical delight, that teasing promise of sanitation, that wondrous, plump, cushioning comfort like a dream you can’t quite recall but feel its essence. Thank God I never liked my curtains. (@flatpackcat)


Find more submissions here along with Grueskin's winner.