Page 7 of What Blooms in Barren Lands

Our road veered off the coast at last, climbing uphill in serpentine turns lined with cypresses.

“At forty-six,” I replied, not a little dourly.

“Damn.”

We drove into the tunnel. In the encroaching darkness, I couldn’t see Petr’s face, but I detected a smile in his tone.

“What I mean to say is that I made motherhood and caring for my future family my whole identity. I don’t know who I am anymore without it. Everything I have ever done was in preparation for a role I will likely never have.”

We left the tunnel, sunlight flooding the cabin of our vehicle once again. We drove into the rolling green valleys of Tuscany in silence, both lost in contemplation.

We arrived in Florence in the grips of melancholy, but it was not possible to visit that city without being swept away into a fantasy of being a Roman noble. The effect of which was only spoiled by the astonishing number of darkly uniformed policemen patrolling all the major squares and streets.

However, the streets also brimmed with history and art, not just with armed forces, and we enjoyed thin-crusted pizzas thatexploded with flavour in our mouths as our eyes feasted on the views of the perfectly round dome of the Santa Maria del Fiore cathedral. The city seemed a true cradle of civilisation. It was as if time became a physical dimension in such a place, allowing us to witness the rise of our society through the centuries. It made one feel smaller on one hand, but as an integral part of something spectacular on the other. Little did I know how important that feeling would become over the next few weeks, months, and years. The awareness of the sheer magnitude of humanity’s heritage, the fragility of it, and the indispensable role that each of us had in it.

Next on our itinerary was Pisa. And the fateful night that would become known as the Outbreak, a singular moment in history that would transform the steady rise of our civilisation into a neck-breaking fall.

3

SIRENS’ SHRIEK

It was just after midnight. The artistic bedside lamp, shaped like a miniature apple tree with bulbs instead of fruit, was the only light source in our hotel room. Each time I turned a page of the book I was reading, my gigantic shadow moved across the tapestry of wild plants. Petr’s shadow was as still as its caster, bar the imperceptible twitching of the thumb across his mobile phone screen.

I was in a sour mood, caused by the skimpy, red and black-laced negligée that I was wearing. Or rather, by Petr’s marked lack of interest in it. We had not made another attempt at intimacy since that unfortunate evening in our home, and I had rather hoped that my choice of nightwear would encourage my partner. Instead, he steadfastly pretended not to have noticed it.

Petr’s breathing sounded loud in the peaceful, quiet room; something wheezed and whistled at the back of his nose each time he inhaled.

I was debating my best course of action. Would I surrender to my solitude for yet another night, or would I dare make a more direct bid for his attention? Suddenly, the shadows became disturbed on the unhinged tapestry as flashing red lights spilled in from the outside. A split second later, I realised that I couldno longer hear Petr’s obtrusive breathing, because sirens blared seemingly all around us.

Then, an announcement resonated through the streets, in Italian first and then in English. It was spoken in a heavily accented male voice that was barely comprehensible due to the microphone feedback.

“Attention. Attention. Due to the outbreak of an unidentified virus in the city, a full quarantine is now in effect. All individuals must remain inside their homes or accommodations until further notice.

“Food and essential supplies will be delivered daily by military personnel, starting today. Medical deliveries can also be arranged through them. Remain inside and wait for your delivery. Do not leave your premises under any circumstances.

“Those who must travel to care for another person must complete Form S767 and be accompanied by a military escort.

“Tourists staying in rented accommodations must remain there. Supplies will be delivered to them in the same manner as to residents.

“All trains, buses, flights, all transport is now suspended. All roads are closed.

“Stay in your home or your place of lodging. Breaking quarantine rules will result in arrest.

“If you are feeling unwell, have a fever, or any other symptoms, inform the military personnel when they deliver your supplies or contact ...”

The announcement concluded by giving out a phone number.

Dumbfounded, Petr and I stared at each other briefly as the announcement repeated in Italian. The sirens’ red light still flashed, regular like a heartbeat.

“What the hell?” Petr put away his phone. “This is a joke, right? Shit. It can’t be for real.”

I only shrugged in response.

I marked my place in the novel with a bookmark and set the volume aside.

“How can you be so calm?! We need to go downstairs to figure out what is actually going on!” Petr’s voice squeaked with tension.

He threw a bathrobe and a bra in my direction.