The surreal doesn’t even seem surreal any more.
A mini-golf course scattered around a broken city. Seven holes (we only played six of them) in seven different “gaps”. This is now a city with more gaps than non-gaps.
Yet the children noticed none of this. They can barely remember Before. Normal is playing a hole of mini-golf surrounded by broken buildings and rubble.
It wasn’t strange to them.
The flooded remains of a basement was thought to be a strange swimming pool.
We had fun.
And there is more colour and life in this broken city than Before.
We are survivors. And this city is also a survivor.
We can never go back to Before, but I’m looking forward to the New.