I am sitting in the den of my house with my dogs, Frankie and Cordelia, stretched out beside me. It is 11:30 pm and the night is very quiet. The wind has been blowing hard but seems to have quietened. There is the occasional whish of a car as it passes by.
We have been watching the limited series Station Eleven on HBO. We finished it this evening and I found it to be very entertaining. This story is based on a highly acclaimed book by Emily St. John Mandel about a post-apocalyptic world that has been devastated by a flu pandemic. This, of course, feels far too familiar, but do not let that put you off. While it takes a bit of time to get totally hooked, the story evolves into a compelling examination of love, loss, connection, and community. One of the most powerful stories in the series centers around a child and two Indian American brothers who care for her. The relationship among these three people alone would make the series worth watching, but there is much more going on over ten episodes. Suffice it to say that by the end of the series, I was sufficiently invested to have tears running down my face. I found the ending satisfying and hopeful.
The critic rating on Rotten Tomatoes is 98%.
Here is the trailer.