When I woke up on Wednesday morning it was to the news that Donald Trump was the next President of the United States, and, at the top of my Instagram feed, to a photograph of a pair of shiny silver ballet pumps. ‘Wearing sparkly shoes to make today just a teeny bit better,’ was the caption.
I scrolled down through other photographs in my usual mindless morning way. A greyhound, already the most doleful looking of dogs, in her basket and the caption: ‘Thank God she neither knows nor understands. I envy her peace’. A toddler, still in his pyjamas, tousled, sleepy, fawn-in-the-headlights eyes: ‘What kind of world will he grow up in?’. A single candle, a mug of tea, a slice of buttered toast: ‘I need the calm in this picture today’. An embroidered quilt: ‘Just no. Can’t even get out of bed. So sad’. There were many, many images of a single black square – much posted the day after the Brexit vote – and variations on the theme of: ‘The second one of 2016.
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