I don’t recognise this country anymore.

Throughout the 2019 General Election campaign, I’ve lost count of the number of times I used the phrase “maybe I’m naive, but…” I really did have a lot of hope that the tide was turning. That far-right nationalism was a bridge too far for a country whose national identity rests so heavily on two world wars and a struggle against fascism.

I took for granted so many principles that I had assumed were commonly held British values. The things that had been agreed upon as part of our social contract. The things we were…

The biting rain crashed around my ears, saturating my grey woolen overcoat with freezing water, crystalising amongst the fibres. Beneath my feet, a squelching mulch of sodden turf, mud, and bull manure, threatening to drag me down into the mire. My shirt clung to my chest for dear life, melding into my pallid skin as if constricting around my lungs.

My companion gripped my arm at the elbow, smouldering in his leather jacket. He blamed me for this. For all of this. I could tell. But the whole mess wasn’t my fault. Probably not all of it, anyway.

I stared…

Ed Callow

Freelance copywriter and editor. www.edcallow.com

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