A friend of mine sent me this sometime after the Brexit Bungle:
There’s not much else to say, is there?
On a much more serious note (and far wiser, kinder, more compassionate and life-enhancing), I read Kent Haruf (to rhyme with Sheriff)’s Our Souls at Night on holiday recently, on the recommendation of dovegreyreader and, in a parallel universe where time is infinite and all things are possible, I would love to have written this exquisitely-beautiful novel. Its insight, wisdom, tenderness, economy of writing, humour and the fundamental understanding that life, loneliness and love; courage, compassion and companionship and other people’s prurient misunderstandings don’t stop in later life. Read it, I urge you.