This morning I sat in a coffee shop near Edinburgh university. It’s been five days since the American electorate handed the reins of the country over to a mad man.
The crowd that grew over the morning was mixed; mostly students – accents from all over. An elegant middle aged mum with her two sons – dressed in sweater vests and wearing poppies for remembrance day – had breakfast.
I drank a good cup of coffee, scanned the morning paper, and listened to the conversation around me.
Listening to the conversation – snippets about the election and Brexit mixed in with exams and romantic intrigue – gave me the first glimmer of hope in days.
They will outlive and undo our stupidity and go on to be stupid in new and amazing ways.