What Alice Forgot by Liane Moriarty: (An Impromptu) Book Review

I had this book for a while before I got around to reading it. I actually like reading books in that way: I forget the book for some time and then when I finally read it I can’t remember what it’s about so I have no expectations and minimal disappointments. Before I go into the book I’d like to mention the author, Liane Moriarty, I only realised after I finished the book that she’s the woman who wrote Big Little Lies and now it makes sense. It seems to me her niche is writing about scandals in suburbia, about the wealthy and their secrets. She writes about it well. I don’t think I’d want to read another story so soon that is set in that same setting because quite frankly I can’t relate but I respect her talent in character building and her writing style.

Okay, the book. I have thoughts. I have feelings. I have thoughts and feelings about this book, but I won’t share much of those because this is a book review and not about me (all I will say is that I saw a lot more of myself in younger Alice than I liked and I’ve been thinking about this ever since.)

What Alice Forgot is about Alice – who forgets. Alice is in a spin class one day when she falls over (somehow), knocks her head and when she wakes up she thinks it’s 1998 and not the present year which is 2008. In other words, Alice has lost all her memories of the last 10 years. Including the memory that she’s getting divorced from the love of her life. Alice also believes that she’s pregnant and about to have her first child…only to find out that she has in fact 3 entire children that she can’t remember.

The premise is a bit crazy isn’t it? When I started the book I thought it would be a silly little romance, reminiscent of 50 first dates (Drew Barrymore, Adam Sandler), but it was so much more than that. The book deals with depression, trauma, amnesia, loss, and suicidal ideation. So please be warned it will not be a light read. It also deals a lot with love and what is first love? and what remains of love after love has been through the most?

I enjoyed the book a lot. It dealt with heavy topics without making light of them but still maintaining a lot of humour. And it played out like a mystery; I felt as if I was with Alice trying to piece together the past 10 years and what went wrong and how had she become the person she was now? I felt like I was growing up with Alice, and wondered who would I be in 10 years? If someone showed me that version of myself would I recognise her, and would I be happy with who I’ve become and the decisions I’ve made? Would I be happier and more at peace, or still spinning in this hamster wheel to who knows where?

I recommend this book to anyone, women would probably feel the book more deeply but I don’t think this is a book that’s hard to read and well, it has a satisfying ending and who doesn’t like those?

Book Review: The Bonesetter’s Daughter

The Bonesetter’s Daughter focuses on the relationship between Ruth, a Chinese woman born and raised in America and her mother, LuLing, a Chinese immigrant. Ruth and LuLing’s relationship has always been strained and communication difficult but things change when LuLing falls sick. Ruth is now faced with the dilemma of taking care of her ailing but stubborn mother. One day Ruth discovers pages and pages that her mother had written, in Chinese, beginning with the words, ‘These are things I know are true‘, and so a journey of discovery begins and Ruth learns more than she bargained for: ghosts, a world war, love and loss and generational curses.

I enjoyed this book immensely because I could relate so much to Ruth – her anger, frustration, sadness and despair due to her relationship with her mom. The author wrote so well that I could practically see the story unfolding in scenes. Some scenes played out in the present day, some hundreds of years ago, some in San Francisco and some in China. I was fascinated by the superstitions and cultural beliefs in China and how they paralleled with those I’ve grown up around here in Zimbabwe; this brought me closer to the book. That being said, I didn’t like a certain part of the book where I felt the author was being overly dramatic – but maybe that was the whole point? Maybe it was meant to emphasise the dramatic life and personality of the character (Precious Auntie). However I didn’t enjoy it because I felt that I was being force fed sadness and drama.

I recommend this book to anyone, but women especially because I know a few guys that didn’t enjoy the book because they couldn’t relate very well. But I think anyone with a less than perfect relationship with their parents/loved ones can read this and relate. And anyone with an interest in discovering a bit more about Chinese culture and customs. Thanks to Jo for recommending this book, read her review here.

*Spoilers ahead*

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Book Review: Interland by Gary Clark

This is my first book review as a reviewer on Reedsy Discovery! Please do check out the book and the plethora of books by up and coming novelists. I reviewed Interland, a fictional adventure novel by Gary Clark.

Interland is the second book by Gary Clark in the Interland Series. Set in dystopian England, during a devastating economic collapse, there are people who have been born with special powers called The Given and there are people out to annihilate them, known as Readers. The ‘Interland’ is a safe haven for The Given, hidden away underground, where no one can harm them. However, the Readers who are led by a mysterious well-dressed man, are up to something, and it can only mean trouble for The Given. We follow the main character Jay, a powerful Given but with incredibly low self esteem, and her family and friends, Sammy, Cassie and Stitch as they fight against the Readers and a few unexpected enemies to save the Interland.

I did not read the first book before I picked this one up and I was afraid that because I lacked the background of the first book I would have some difficulty following the story but the plot didn’t hinge so much on the first book but rather built on that foundation. Interland incorporates a lot of familiar themes from popular YA fantasy and adventure; it gives Divergent meets Avatar the Last Airbender (except they’re not manipulating the elements but drawing energy from them). The story flows well between each scene. The author also dotted this book with a diverse group of characters and as a black African I liked the book just a bit more because of that.

Having said all this, I found the book hard to follow in the parts that really mattered, where a lot of action and pivotal moments were happening. Often the action scenes fell flat and I had to re-read a paragraph because of how quickly events would happen without a clear description. This might be frustrating to some people. I also felt that the description of the powers and ‘levels’ wasn’t clear however; this is probably explained more clearly in the first book.

In essence, Interland is well-paced, and has a handful of scenes that will have you on the edge of your seat, I recommend it to anyone who would like to delve into a new world of adventure from a new author.

Book Review: Stay with Me

At the start of 2021, for the first time in my life, I intentionally read books from African authors. I looked to GoodReads for good recommendations and as I was perusing through highly rated books from African authors I came across Stay With Me by Ayọ̀bámi Adébáyọ. Most of the books I came across had similar content: marriage, loss, struggle, spirituality, brokenness, patriarchy etc. and in my opinion, women are usually the ones going through some sort of suffering so I wasn’t interested at first. I read books to run away from these grueling topics not towards them. I’m a fantasy girl at heart; give me fairies, magic and dragon slayers. But Stay With Me intrigued me for some reason, maybe it was the book cover or maybe I was drawn to the topic of polygamy in which I’m not so well versed.

The synopsis on Goodreads looked fairly interesting, but it still sounded a lot like any other generic story: husband and wife, marital problems, secrets, lies and so on:

“This celebrated, unforgettable first novel, shortlisted for the prestigious Women’s Prize for Fiction and set in Nigeria, gives voice to both husband and wife as they tell the story of their marriage–and the forces that threaten to tear it apart. Yejide and Akin have been married since they met and fell in love at university. Though many expected Akin to take several wives, he and Yejide have always agreed: polygamy is not for them. But four years into their marriage–after consulting fertility doctors and healers, trying strange teas and unlikely cures–Yejide is still not pregnant. She assumes she still has time–until her family arrives on her doorstep with a young woman they introduce as Akin’s second wife. Furious, shocked, and livid with jealousy, Yejide knows the only way to save her marriage is to get pregnant, which, finally, she does–but at a cost far greater than she could have dared to imagine. An electrifying novel of enormous emotional power, Stay With Me asks how much we can sacrifice for the sake of family.“

The book starts with the betrayal from the very start, and I was immediately drawn into Yejide’s anger. How could her seemingly loving husband agree to get a second wife behind Yejide’s back! I was lifting up my proverbial slipper and getting ready to knock him upside the head, but then the story delved much deeper than I ever expected it would.

The plot was fraught with danger and betrayal, murder, false prophets, and against my best wishes it brought me back to see the Africa that I often try to flee from in my head. I found some of it too far fetched though – I think the plot progressed the way it did just for the sake of deepening the betrayal but I couldn’t stop reading it.

The story, in essence, is heartbreaking. At one point I tweeted that I was reading the book and one of my mutual followers on Twitter asked me if I thought Akin loved Yejide? I hadn’t finished the book yet but I was sure that despite his strange behaviour he truly loved her and I told her that. Now though – now I’m not so sure.

Even though my heart broke into many little pieces I really enjoyed reading this book.

Book Review: The Story of Arthur Truluv

This is another short book review. The Story of Arthur Truluv is only 240 pages long so anyone with enough zeal could read it in one sitting. At first I was very hesitant to read this book because the main characters are dealing with grief, but as soon as I got past the first page I realised that this was a pretty light-hearted book. The first paragraph gripped my attention, and from then on I knew I would enjoy the book. The story begins with us seeing into Arthur’s mind as he pays one of his daily visits to his beloved wife’s grave. Arthur truly was the star of the book and I’m in complete agreement with the author, Elizabeth Berg, who said that ‘We all need an Arthur in our lives!’. The book tackles themes of loss, friendship, love, broken family relationships with humour and doesn’t delve too deep into these topics, seeing as it’s a fairly short book.

The Story of Arthur Truluv is about an 85 year old man named Arthur Moses who has lost the love of his life and forms an unlikely friendship with a misunderstood teenage girl, Maddy. Maddy’s mother died soon after she was born and she has been raised by her emotionally-stunted father. Arthur and Maddy’s friendship, and the other relationships Arthur formed in the book were really heartwarming I’m not even going to lie. Even the relationship Arthur had with his cat was endearing. The way the author wrote each character made them so loveable, especially the old characters, because you wanted to laugh with them even in moments that might have normally been quite sad. On the other hand, Maddy was written as the typical weird, misfit, nobody-at-school-likes-me-so-I-have-no-friends trope. Although this is a very common trope, I didn’t find her annoying or cliché. I was drawn into her sadness and ultimately just wanted the best for her but not as much as Arthur did of course.

I can’t say much more without spoiling the book, but I’d say that this is a cute feel-good book and a tear or two might be shed throughout. Unless you’re a thug like me and you only ever cry when absolutely necessary (Read: I cry easily so I don’t read books with sad storylines but this one was only slightly sad so it was worth it).

*Read ahead if you don’t mind Spoilers*

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Book Review: The Convenience Store Woman by Sayaka Murata

I can’t remember why exactly I decided to read this book. It was late last year, and I was reading one of my favourite books The Way of Kings by Brandon Sanderson, but in between breaks I looked for lighter, shorter books to escape into. I must’ve searched up ‘light-hearted short books’ or something of that sort. The reason I’m starting with saying all this is to outline that this isn’t the usual kind of book I read but I read it anyway. Before I go on, this post contains *spoilers* in the third paragraph, so if you want to read the book please don’t read further than that.

The Convenience Store Woman is a very short book and I finished it within a few hours spread out over two days. It’s about a Japanese woman, Keiko, who has always been…’different’ from everyone else. She works in a convenience store and she’s very happy working there day in and day out – in fact, she’s worked at the same store for 18 years, ever since the store opened. Her family, and her friends worry about her and whether she’ll ever be normal. And she tries her best to try to be normal, hence the job in the convenience store – a normal job with guidelines on how to be a good employee and a simple enough rulebook that she follows to the very last dot. But after 18 years, working the same job – well, society doesn’t find that normal does it?

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*Spoilers*

Okay, so there’s a lot about this book.

I think the reason I kept reading it was because I was intrigued by how weird the main character was and it seemed she was weird for no clear reason. I expected some sort of explanation as to why she was that way, and I hoped for some resolution where she becomes normal or at least is accepted by her peers for who she is. But the book gave me none of that and near the end of the book I realised that it must be satire. I realised that the point of the book was to make Keiko into a caricature of a social pariah, like Sheldon Cooper, except worse. So at first the book made me laugh, when little Keiko thought the solution to how to stop a fight was to knock the people involved over the head with a shovel. Then I was alarmed when I saw adult Keiko still applying this same line of reasoning to the problem of how to stop her sister’s baby from crying. All this, I suppose, was for the author to exaggerate how weird and abnormal Keiko is, and maybe to make us feel like she really did need to be ‘fixed’ or ‘cured’.

Then as the book progresses we meet Shiraha. At first, we hate him because he’s a creep and complains about everything and everyone. Major bad vibes. And maybe we continue to hate him throughout the book all the way until the end. But at some point as I saw similarities between him and Keiko and I couldn’t fault him entirely for how he was. I saw them both as victims of a society that’s not built to accommodate people who are ‘different’, and funny enough although Shiraha is undoubtedly a terrible person, he’s the only one who lent us a better view into Keiko’s mind and how she was unfairly treated by society. (Side-note: I never want to see the phrase ‘Stone Age’ again).

Keiko’s ‘friends’ as well as Shiraha’s sister-in-law are caricatures too, I realised. They’re nosy and incredibly rude, cruel even. I recall the sister-in-law’s parting remarks to Keiko, telling her that the world would be a better place if she and Shiraha didn’t have children and didn’t leave their DNA on the planet. Ouch! I think I even clutched my chest, I was so shocked. Keiko did nothing except be different, and yes Shiraha’s a good-for-nothing but wow, don’t they deserve a chance to be happy if they want it? As I was reeling from those words I understood that maybe I was supposed to feel that way. I was supposed to feel sorry for Keiko. Well, no not for her, a fictional character but instead for those in society that are deemed different and who don’t conform to societal norms. (Although, from my point of view, a lot more people who go against societal norms are celebrated these days and there’s more acceptance in the world now. Or maybe that’s just what I see online?)

So as the book ended and Keiko ditched any chance of being accepted by society – and I felt defeated. Then I felt bad for feeling that way. There’s a quote from the book that I think sums it up. Keiko’s sister who was always so supportive of her, finds out that Keiko isn’t actually getting any more normal after all these years but rather she hasn’t changed a bit. This upsets her sister so much that she starts crying and Keiko thinks this in regard to her sister, “She’s far happier thinking her sister is normal, even if she has a lot of problems, than she is having an abnormal sister for whom everything is fine.” So as I finished the book I realised that I was just the same way, Keiko was wholeheartedly content being a convenience store worker for her entire life but I didn’t want that for her because it wasn’t normal. Yes, this is fiction, but it made me think about the standards we grow up with in our lives which dictate what is ‘normal’ and how much merit we should put in these standards?

21 Days of Positivity

2020….*sighs*.

I often find myself wondering what it will be like when we finally emerge from the rubble. What will we say to each other of this horrible time? Will we even find the words to accurately describe the pain that 2020 brought upon the whole world? Although at the moment, 2021 is not that much better, it does come with more of a sense of routine now. The element of shock has mostly dissipated and what we’re left with is a muted acknowledgment of the world that we now find ourselves in, “The New Normal”. I had hope for a brighter year in 2021, and I still do (you may disagree with this and that’s totally fine). I can’t see into the future of course nor will I try to speculate about what it might hold, but I felt a sense of hope as 2021 dawned upon us because to me 2021 was a clean slate; a new year to try again. This hope I felt/feel is primarily concerning myself because I can’t change my external environment but I can try my best to change the internal.

So as 2020 was fading into the back I came across a social media challenge: 21 Days of Positivity.

From my secondary Instagram account, @aurora.b.ealis

Exactly the kind of thing I was looking for – something to force me to be a more positive person. This presented an opportunity for me to try every day to have more positive self-talk and positive thoughts.

Long story short, I did not do a good job with this challenge ladies and gentlemen…but then again I didn’t think I would. I knew that forcing myself to be positive every day wouldn’t work because consistency doesn’t happen overnight and I knew that there would be days which would be more difficult than others. What I did succeed in doing was kickstarting a small part of me that was slowly blinking out, the part of me that wanted to do better and be a better person. Daily (okay, almost daily), I shared my thoughts on my WhatsApp and Instagram and it forced me to introspect, just a little bit, on my state of mind. I was no longer passing through life, like some forlorn breeze; as day after day merged into a dull lump of grey. No, rather, I was awakening the part of me that cared about my well-being and thus affected the way I interacted with the world and my loved ones.

There were hard days and good days. At one point, I realised a drawback in that I wasn’t focusing enough on my positive mindset but rather I was focusing on ensuring that I posted something for other people to see that I’m still doing the challenge; a sort of conundrum I found myself in because I also needed to post my progress to remain accountable. All in all, I appreciated the challenge and it brought me just a tad closer to myself again, to the me I was pre-pandemic. She’s a fighter, she had just forgotten that she was.

Atomic Habits by James Clear has been trending a lot lately, and though I haven’t read the book yet I do appreciate his concept of creating systems/habits that will get you to be where you want to be rather than focusing solely on the end goal. The 21 Days of Positivity was for me merely a cog in the machine, one part of a larger system that I am still working on in the hopes of achieving a life-long goal.

How are you fighting to stay positive? If at all?

A Dream Within a Dream – II

When the lights switched back on, she was outside the book shop. She couldn’t remember walking outside, but she was now standing in the narrow-cobbled street with the book clutched tightly to her chest. She took a look down both ends of the street as she tried to figure out what to do next. To the left, it led back to the candied-streets lined by rivers of deep chocolate. The scene resembled a child’s wildest fantasies, and she felt a strong urge to go back in that direction. Another part of her, the logical side, told her to look to the right instead. There, the cobbled streets gave way to a woodland trail that led through a forest with overgrown grass, tall bushes and towering trees. It looked as if no one had walked through it in years. Suspicion rose inside of her as she replayed all the horror movies she’d watched before – you do not walk down a creepy trail on your own. Dream or not.

Just as she was about to walk toward candy land, she spotted a wooden sign post among the tall grass. It looked as if a child had painted on it in large, pink letters: Go This Way. Her name was signed at the bottom, in case it wasn’t clear enough that the sign was meant for her to see. If she didn’t want to walk down this way before, now she certainly didn’t.

Her dreams were usually very vivid. One in particular stood out; a recurring dream she had growing up. It was the middle of the day and the sun was casting its rays directly over a large, gleaming lake. She couldn’t see where it ended, it just seemed to go on and on to meet the horizon. A dense green forest surrounded the lake.

She stood on a wooden dock in the middle of the lake and she took in the scene before her, a huge golden building in the shape of a globe was situated on the lake. It sparkled in the midday sun, and seemed to be made of glass and precious stones. She could hear – no, she could sense piano music being played inside. An exclusive party was underway in the building. People’s laughter, and images of a ballroom filled with people in fancy dress holding champagne glasses appeared before her. She couldn’t actually see these things of course; she was hundreds of metres away from the building. The lake and its surroundings were silent, and she was alone, but somehow, she could sense exactly what was happening inside.

Another time, it was late at night. She was standing behind a big bush, and beside her was a trail leading to the golden globe building. This time she wasn’t alone, there were other people her age all dressed up and talking animatedly among themselves. It felt like camp, a camp for the rich and successful. She stood apart from the crowd, watching them as they streamed to the globe in their dozens. They couldn’t see her, or maybe chose not to. Once again music was coming from the golden globe, she wasn’t sure what kind of music it was but she knew a party was happening there.

As she continued to spy on them, somebody tapped on her shoulder from behind. It was the librarian. He had a friendly smile on his face, and he too was dressed up, donning a tuxedo and his locs were tied in a neat bun on top of his head. To say the least, she was utterly surprised to see him. How did he make it into a dream from her past? Before she could open her mouth to ask him anything he pointed at the book in her arms. She looked down, she didn’t know she was still holding onto it.

“You haven’t opened it yet,” he remarked with slight disappointment, “I thought by now you would have figured it out.” What was he talking about? She felt a bit dizzy trying to make sense of what was happening. He saw the confusion on her face.

“You told me last time that when you returned you’d have figured out how to get it open. Apparently you haven’t.” He spoke slowly, as if to an infant. This offended her slightly, but she was still confused.

“Last time?” She furrowed her brow.

“Yes, before you travelled back to the other world.”

Other world? “You mean, before I woke up?” She looked at the book in her arms. It was starting to feel heavy and all too real. She held it up to her face to get a closer look. She could smell the worn, brown leather and the woody scent of the pages.  

“Have you not figured it out yet? Last time it didn’t take you this long. But then again, you were much younger that time. Your mind was a lot sharper.”

“Okay man, aren’t you meant to be some sort of guide? Like the Cheshire cat or something?” she said, annoyed. “Obviously I don’t know why I’m having this dream so enlighten me, you seem to know what’s happening.”

He smirked and side stepped away from the bush she was hiding behind. He merged into the crowd of party-goers, leaving her alone once again. “This isn’t Alice in Wonderland,” he said before disappearing into the crowd.

A Dream Within a Dream – I

Her eyelids flew open and she gazed in wonder at the world that unravelled before her eyes. Coral pink confetti descended before her from an unseen source in the sky, encasing her in the magical land that she had stumbled upon. An island that seemed to be made up of her wildest dreams.

She stuck out her tongue and shut her eyes tightly like a small child wanting to taste raindrops. She knew what to expect. Bits of confetti wafted down and landed on her tongue and immediately melted into a syrupy sweet concoction that resembled her favourite candy. A huge grin spread across her face and she could feel the excitement welling up in her chest. She opened her eyes again, to the sound of her name being carried on the wind as someone called from somewhere in the distance. Before her, the confetti had stopped falling and she could see cobbled streets lined by green, neatly trimmed lawn. On either side of the street were rivers of rich, smooth, brown. Children stood on the shores, eagerly dipping buckets, hats, cups and anything they could to get a taste of the chocolatey goodness. Apparently her dreams were sponsored by Willy Wonka.

Once again, her name was called and she turned around to try find the source. Behind her the scene was completely different. A bookstore in the shape of a large novel rose high above her head, a few metres in front of her. The familiar smell of old paper, ink and leather wafted out from the front door which stood slightly ajar. She breathed it in deeply and the memories of her boarding school days flooded her mind. The days she spent curled up on her bed, joining Nancy Drew and the Famous Five on their mystery adventures. The smell of heavy rain and drenched grass also mixed in, putting her in an almost dreamlike state. But then again, this was a dream after all.

She followed the intoxicating smell into the open bookstore. The shop’s bell let out a magical tinkling sound as she entered and she felt the world around her shift. All eyes in the bookstore zoomed in on her as she walked up to the librarian who was scribbling on a notepad before him. A tingle went up her spine as she felt the combined gaze of the entire shop fixated on her. The librarian looked up at her as she approached and he immediately dropped his pen. A wide grin lit up his face. He had the wild look of a man who was always ready for an adventure. His long, illustrious locs were tied in a messy bun on top of his head and his dark-brown eyes smiled at her from beneath glasses that looked as if they belonged in another era. His clothes looked intentionally shabby as if he had put in a lot of effort to look dishevelled and wild. A bright pink scarf that was at odds with his entire outfit hung around his neck. She liked him immediately.

As she approached his desk he eagerly held out a book at her, “It’s ready, just as you asked. Everything is there.” Before she could ask what on earth he was talking about he winked, held up his hand and lowered himself behind his desk as if to get something. A few seconds passed and he didn’t reappear. Much to her surprise, as she peered over his desk – he was gone. As if he had never been there.

This dream had the makings of all the things she loved in a good fantasy book, she thought. Books, disappearance acts…strange men with books who disappear. A subtle hint of magic hung in the air and she breathed it in deeply. She couldn’t control the smile forming on her face. Hugging her hands to her chest, she sighed dreamily and hoped she wouldn’t wake up anytime soon.

The book. She remembered the book the man had just handed to her which she still held in her arms. It was a thick, leather-bound book with one huge clasp on the front. The clasp wouldn’t budge no matter how hard she tried to yank on it. The book had seen much better days, it was worn and had a few pages sticking out. A book that had seen many different owners over many different generations. What could it possibly be for? And why did he say she had asked for it even though they had never met?

Butterfly Effect

*This fictional post was inspired by the sound of a fly buzzing around in my room late at night.*

October 2019

The fly kept buzzing around my head incessantly. After 3 failed attempts at swatting it away, I let out an exasperated sigh. My friend seated across from me looked up with a concerned look at my dramatic response. We were sprawled across the lush green of her backyard with books, pens and highlighters laid out on a picnic blanket in front of us. We were meant to be studying for our qualifying exams for med school but for the past 30 minutes or she was glued to Instagram, scrolling down the endless explore page.

“That fly is out to get me,” I said in mild frustration as the fly made another attempt to land on my face.

“Maybe it’s trying to tell you something,” She laughed and went back to scrolling. I scrunched up my face and darted away again as the incessant bug made a nose dive for me.

“I don’t even think it’s a fly,” I said distractedly, ignoring my friend’s mocking. I studied the insect closely as it landed on my leg. It had tiny wings that almost looked chrome when the sun hit them directly and it had dull, too-black eyes. It almost looked as if it was meant to look like a fly. I picked up an unopened textbook as slowly as I could and swung at it. I missed again. It was relentless. It circled my arms and as I swatted with the book it deftly evaded the book, landing expertly on the ground before me. I was starting to really get annoyed.

“Dude, let it go,” She looked up from her phone and gave me a weird look as if I was overreacting. I eyed the insect suspiciously one last time and dropped the textbook back onto the floor. I was meant to be studying for my exam on infectious diseases, I picked up the book and the fly landed on it just as I turned the first page. I was about to let out another cry of frustration but I knew my friend would judge me so I opted to stare down the fly. It practically moonwalked across my page and landed on a picture from the 1960’s of a man wearing a mask and holding up a test tube. I tried shutting the book quickly but the fly was quicker. It was gone.

I sat still for 30 seconds and when I didn’t hear anything, I opened the book again and flipped to the section I was meant to be reading. Zoonotic diseases. I had missed the lectures on this topic and kissed my teeth as I saw how long the chapter was. The buzzing came back as soon as I started reading. I felt the anger rising up in me again. This time the fly landed on the word ‘pandemic’, just under the sub-section on the Spanish flu. I swatted it away again but it kept landing back on the same word.

“I see you and your fly are making progress.” I looked up and my friend was holding in a laugh. I realised I had been in an ongoing battle with a fly for the past 5 minutes and she had probably recorded it all on her phone.

“It’s really weird, honestly,” I huffed, “Why isn’t it bothering you?” she shrugged and went back to her Instagram. I narrowed my eyes and stared at the fly, hoping it could sense my bad vibes and decide it was time to leave. Rather, it drew closer and landed on a picture of a bat. It’s buzzing seemed to get louder and as I shut the book again – this time I don’t think it made it out.

I triumphantly opened the book again, sure that I had finally won this battle. I had. The fly was wedged between the two pages. My smile faded as I saw dozens of chrome wires poking out of the fly’s body. A closer look revealed a tiny flickering device on the under belly of the fly.

There was an inscription on it. I used a small stick that was lying nearby to turn it over.

Two numbers were inscribed but I didn’t know what they meant.

03-2020