The stage for our voyage into my inner depths is almost set, there is the spaceship and the outer world. You might ask about the performers, but there really is just one, me.

I had a copilot, so to say, missing a lot as she flew on a different deck of the spaceship (exactly one floor below): My wife. Ironically, this journey could have been our honeymoon. We married in the weeks before, in the high-times of the pandemic in Germany. As if packing everything up and saying goodbye to friends and family were not exiting enough, we planned and re-planned our wedding three times while the rules shifted from allowing 20 to 10 to 5 people. Because of this, we ended up having three weddings (with each of our families as well as at the marriage bureau) – and another good story

Yet, the honeymoon was effectively canceled by the quarantine rules, as I was stuck in my room, she in hers a floor below. Long telephone conversations were a bit pointless as we quickly learned, given how little there was happening in our lives. We made a habit out of eating together instead, to talk about the lightened rooms in the high-rises before our windows, the street performers we could just so see in the streets below.

With this thin band connecting me to people outside, I was confronted with the question what to do with my time…

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