The Festival Outside
outside, anyhow? They couldn’t work, and there was barely anyone around. Better to rest at home, stay away from the virus. Slowly, their numbers dwindled. When they restricted KL borders, those in the kampungs gave up all thought of returning. And working outside, in the thick of a crowd, at high speed, was a skill you had to build, but there was no one new to train; so few wanted to do “outside work” anymore. So as the years slunk by, many forgot their techniques. Others grew old and eventually passed, taking their tricks and secrets with them. But now, they said KL was virus-free. For this festival, they had asked her, very nicely, not to wear a mask. They wanted everyone coming to feel like “the old days”. To have fun, to go back to what it was like. A huge city-wide celebration of “going back to normal”. That’s why they had worked so hard to find people like her, people used to the bodies and bustle of KL swirling around them 25 years ago. But what about… Nothing to worry about, Makcik. I’m old, you know. High-risk. Trust us. No cases in KL for two years. And no local transmissions in five years. Can I keep my mask with me? Can, Makcik. She tried not to breathe too deeply. Being outside felt unnatural, with all this air stretching out in every direction. And she didn’t know how she felt about this breeze fluttering against her cheeks and lips.
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