I was eight years old. I am in the kitchen. The radio is on. The news is coming up. There is this solemn voice. It says: “The government has left for the holidays.” My mind goes blank. I hear vaguely something about one Minister staying put in case something happens. In case something happens? I lose my faith in the world that day. I am eight years old.
I was always thinking about the things the government had said or done on the news. It was comforting the way the world seemed to be organized in happenings and reactions and solutions to these happenings.
Throughout the summer the news was rather silent. Nothing much ‘happened’. And I wondered, I really wondered; can reality take a holiday?
It was clear that it did.
Only when the government came back from wherever they had roamed, just around the time that school started, the happenings came back, the buzz was back on and newsreaders read their lines as if they were out of breath, as if there were ‘urgent’ matters and things to get done, now, now.
But I knew it was all a hack. Reality itself was scripted. The news itself just another category of fiction aimed at creating a comforting scope of normality for us citizens – well yes kids then – maybe for us kids, still.