The moon looked like a glowing pill from a distance
Posted: Mon Jul 07, 2025 5:39 am
Birds didn’t chirp—probablydue to the sanitizing drones.Outside, cats stalked sidewalks treated with hydrogen peroxide.A woman sprayed Lysol into the wind, just in case.The night smelled like lavender, pine, and fear.Someone wore a face shield to sleep.A child bathed in Dettol before bedtime prayers.Pillows were ironed to flatten possible bacterial hideouts.Coughs were silent, swallowed like dangerous secrets.Antibacterial incense burned beside Buddhist statues.Old myths said evil spirits came at midnight.Now we say E. coli comes at dinner.People prayed not for peace, but for germ resistance.The chant wasn’t spiritual—it was “wash your hands.”Soap became holy. Routines, rituals.
A man dreamt he shook hands and woke screaming.Another one tucked a thermometer under his pillow.Children memorized germs like alphabet letters: .One girl said through an N95 mask.Romance bloomed six feet apart, misted in alcohol spray.No more midnight snacks—fridges were biohazard zones.Touchscreens responded only to gloved fingers.The TV broadcasted phone list bacteria counts instead of weather.Tonight, the mold under your sink was the enemy.Ant colonies watched enviously from disinfected cracks.Shoes were dipped in bleach pools before entering homes.
Beds had antibacterial covers with RFID-tracked wash logs.Even dreams were sterilized by fear and fog.
They said moonlight kills some germs, so windows stayed open.But wind brought rumors of infection with the breeze.
Fireflies were mistaken for airborne bacteria.Hospitals hummed lullabies made from heart monitor beeps.Syringes clicked in the distance like distant lullabies.Lamps flickered; electricity feared contamination too.Plastic ruled the world—plastic gloves, plastic wraps, plastic smiles.
A child built Lego biohazard labs for fun.Nightmares weren’t about monsters—they were about surfaces.Someone disinfected their own reflection in the mirror.Even ghosts wore masks in these superstitious towns.No one trusted shadows—they couldn’t be sanitized.People bleached dreams before falling asleep.
A man dreamt he shook hands and woke screaming.Another one tucked a thermometer under his pillow.Children memorized germs like alphabet letters: .One girl said through an N95 mask.Romance bloomed six feet apart, misted in alcohol spray.No more midnight snacks—fridges were biohazard zones.Touchscreens responded only to gloved fingers.The TV broadcasted phone list bacteria counts instead of weather.Tonight, the mold under your sink was the enemy.Ant colonies watched enviously from disinfected cracks.Shoes were dipped in bleach pools before entering homes.
Beds had antibacterial covers with RFID-tracked wash logs.Even dreams were sterilized by fear and fog.
They said moonlight kills some germs, so windows stayed open.But wind brought rumors of infection with the breeze.
Fireflies were mistaken for airborne bacteria.Hospitals hummed lullabies made from heart monitor beeps.Syringes clicked in the distance like distant lullabies.Lamps flickered; electricity feared contamination too.Plastic ruled the world—plastic gloves, plastic wraps, plastic smiles.
A child built Lego biohazard labs for fun.Nightmares weren’t about monsters—they were about surfaces.Someone disinfected their own reflection in the mirror.Even ghosts wore masks in these superstitious towns.No one trusted shadows—they couldn’t be sanitized.People bleached dreams before falling asleep.