When I get the text message confirming that I’m Covid-free, it’s relief first, then elation, followed by fatigue. The anxiety has been exhausting, wondering if I could have unwittingly infected the handful of friends whom I can reach out to again and the handful of strangers whom I cannot. After what should have been a deep, restful sleep but was not, I cover my face with my mask and walk into the not-yet-morning streets of Kennedy Town. It is 5:30 a.m.

Invisible birds are already celebrating the day, not knowing what joys or tragedies will unfold. Twittering, warbling, hooting and chirping in dark trees and bushes. Silly things. The traffic lights change green, amber, red and back again, as my feet criss-cross the empty roads, burnished bronze by the flickering light of the street lamps. All I can hear is the metallic rattle of the pedestrian boxes, urging me on. And those birds. What’s up with those birds?

• Tags: Hong Kong, Issue 23, Maureen Tai