Neil Slevin, After Trump

That morning when I woke to the news, then went downstairs to greet the day, the world seemed a darker place.

But I’m an adult now. And the adults who were adults for me when I couldn’t be, taught me the verb ‘compromise’, which, to an adult at least, means ‘to make the best of things’. So staying at home to pretend I hadn’t woken up to a bad dream wasn’t an option and although things had changed inexorably, coffee, cereal, and TV were still as there as he.

And as I watched, the sun came on, clouds retreated, day dawned. Even though the people in the screen told me there were 60-odd million just hours, miles away; people I couldn’t begin to understand let alone rationalise or explain, should I feel like making the effort and/or making them meet me halfway.

Still I knew life would go on, more tomorrows would dawn, because surely even ‘T’ can’t be as bad as he said he’d be.

I was wrong.

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