The early hours of the 23rd June were deafening

It was the loudest night of thunder I’d ever heard, each time I heard the first cracks, my heart raced, and my mind wondered about how close the accompanying streak of lightening was to striking my body (I needn’t have feared, the lightening presages the thunder). The flashes which lit up my bedroom, I’ve never seen anything like it. I felt like the explosions were presaging the Brexit referendum, the outbreak of a civilised war, between the unabashed aggression of Brexit and the controlling intellectualism of Remain.

 

 

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