I look out of the window. Farage and Trump are jousting on the lawn, seeking to prove their manhood, but it is not going well. They have both landed gasping on the ground like capsized turtles, unable to right themselves under the weight of their armour. All the courtly ladies are laughing historically and throwing…

Remember the fearsome threatening time, before now? Before this new winter. When the world’s end was just a cold snap away? The fanatics all buttoned up in their cocoons, incubating their final outburst. Where was the enemy then? Over the sea, behind the walls, at missile’s reach, and without a specific face. But now? Now…

The earth’s angry core has boiled over and reached the surface. The blue planet has turned the red of a cold sun. Our children endure their pain on its molten spittings like effigies on a bonfire, their latex faces and rubber-gloved hands running and hissing in the heat. Sometimes I wish. I wish a blinding…