I’ve noticed that when people talk about “people” they say “women” now. I don’t like it. I mentioned it to a teacher at school in Sociology and she said it was just because of the majority. I didn’t think that was a very good reason to ignore the men who are left but I didn’t want to get into trouble so I didn’t push it.
I have dreams about before. They make me really stressed out the next day. In them, I’m always playing football in the garden with my dad in my school uniform, happy that the day’s over and I can relax. Then before I wake up my mum will start screaming and she’ll start saying names of all the people who’ve died: Grandpa, baby Benji, Uncle Victor. I’ll wake up and remember everything that’s happened in a rush and want to throw up.
If it’s okay, I don’t want you to send any letters after this or phone Mum asking for me. I’ve said what I want to. I’m trying to move on. I hope your report goes well and this is helpful.
CATHERINE
London, United Kingdom （England and Wales）
Day 1,650
I’ve been reading a blog and I can’t get it out of my head. Libby pointed it out to me. We’ve both become obsessed with the stories of the Plague; the limitless ways in which it affected different configurations of families. We’re hardly alone. All anyone can talk about are Maria Ferreira interviews and the books and movies being made about the experience of the Plague. I can’t bear to watch anything, it’s too much to see it on-screen but each night I spend hours trawling the internet, reading until the screen is wavy. The blog is by a man in London called Daniel Ahern. He wrote it as a diary of immunity. Here’s a selection of his posts.
December 9, 2025
I’m not leaving the house. As soon as my mum saw the news she came over with loads of cans. All kinds of random stuff like peaches, peas, black beans. I don’t know what she was thinking buying all that. I just needed baked beans and potatoes and I’ll be fine. She can’t be around too much. My stepdad has bowel cancer so she has to spend a lot of time with him in the hospital in Romford. I wish I could just say to her to leave him and spend all her time with me but I can’t. I’m not going to be selfish like that and make her choose.
March 9, 2026
Still alive. I ran out of cans a few weeks ago so I had to leave the house. All the women who saw me stared at me like I was a wild animal. I wanted to shout at them, “What you fucking staring at, I’m just a man,” but it didn’t seem right. They’re just scared. Everyone’s scared. I bought stuff from the corner shop as quick as I could. Threw the cash down on the counter and didn’t wait for change. Touched as little as possible. I got some crisps and loads of Fanta. I’ve been craving salt and vinegar crisps and Fanta for weeks. I could have cried, they tasted so good. I assumed I’d get sick in the next few days but I didn’t. I’ve been doing the same thing every few days. I run out, get food, don’t get any change back, get back in the house. I’m still alive so I must be doing something right. I want my mum to come and see me but she’s scared she’s got it and she’ll pass it on to me. My stepdad died of it on Christmas Day so she says it’s definite that she’s carrying it. I tell her she can just sit on the other side of the room from me but she insists. All I can do is talk to her on Skype.
June 15, 2026
I think I’m immune. I would say I think I’m immune, lads, but I don’t think there’s that many lads left to read this. My mum’s been over three times now. Each time we were careful. No hugging, I sat on the sofa, she sat on the floor on the other side of the living room, she had to cough at one point and she literally coughed out the window. But still, nothing. I’ve read loads of stories of people getting sick from being breathed on by someone who’s got it. One in ten men are immune. I think I’m one of the special ones.
November 4, 2026
Still here, lads and ladies! No death for me. I’m basically living a normal life now. Not totally normal, I’m not stupid. No public transport and I still only buy food from the corner shop and don’t touch any money someone’s given me. I want to get tested to see if I’m officially immune but that would mean going to a doctor and if I’m not （I definitely am but no need to take stupid risks） I’ll catch it from a germy GP practice in a second. I’m back at work now at my old job. I always worked from home and only worked in the office occasionally so it doesn’t feel like much has changed. I think I’ll get a position in the draft soon but apparently they make you get tested for immunity first.