Here are some stories of the immobilities of gender-based violence written during the time of Covid-19 pandemic.
Walking Alone
I keep meaning to walk alone during lockdown. Not to the shops or allotment, but really walk, lose myself to my thoughts, to the haze of the bluebells, songs of the blackbirds or the squelch of my shoes in the mud. But I know that buried deep down, far back, there is a fear that stops me.
We Walk
We head out to the edge of the South Downs, a combination of dry weather and cold air making the ground hard but we can see the sun tipping behind the houses and feel the hope of spring. In lockdown, her hair has become a mane of gold and with legs almost as long as mine, she can easily keep up and talk non-stop at the same time. I am happy just to listen, especially on the hills. After some gentle cajoling, she has started to enjoy our post-home-school walks. Eye rolling and sighing soon moves into revelling in a space that is just for her.