Endgame

With it being day one of lockdown two: the lockening, I was keen to stretch my legs at lunch and see if the world felt any different as a result.

Aside from marginally less traffic and additional instances of the sickly sweet waft of third party weed hitting my nostrils, everything felt pretty much as it had done. Keen to shake things up a bit, I walked the OTHER WAY around the castle to which I normally do (I know, I’ve gone mad I have) and snapped this shot looking south-west-ish over the Auld Grey Town.

I was also keen to get away from my desk and to cease hitting refresh on the American election coverage……..but then proceeded to check it on my phone anyway, unable to look away from the car crash.

Later on, after the children were asleep after a lovely evening, I would foolishly finish my day by watching Trump’s rambling slew of incoherence as he railed against imaginary wrongdoing and drivelled on about pipe burst conspiracy theories (which looks absolutely ridiculous when written down).

The only crumb of comfort to be drawn from the stream of bile cascading from this cardboard human, this imitation of life, this tangoed, lobotomised gibbon intent on flinging its own faeces around the room was that it looked and sounded beaten.

We can but hope.