Pandora – a short corona story

– Mr. Professor, are you sure?

The lab assistant did not dare to meet the professor’s gaze, but instead looked down at her hands. It was dead silent in the lab except for the rhythmic swish sound from the blood centrifuge.

The professor corrected his respiratory mask, and instead of answering her he pulled out a shiny black box from his lab coat, a box no larger than his smartphone that was laying on the stainless steel bench between them.

– It’s time now, he said.

She reached out a trembling hand and received the box.

– This is the best thing we can do for our planet, the professor said, as he picked up his phone and started dialling a number, and she knew exactly to whom the number went.

The professor went into the office and closed the door between them. Through the thick glass she could see how he talked and gestured wildly. Now there was no return.

She looked down, and there was the shiny black box in her shaking hands, and on the lid there was only one word engraved with blood-red letters.


Jonas Thorén, 2020-03-16

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