A bleak horizon

The last thing I read last night was an article in the Guardian. It assured me that the election was in the bag for Hillary and pretty much always had been. Of the eleven swing states, she only needed to win one big one or a couple of the others to be assured of the presidency. Trump needed the lot.

I wanted to believe it.

But earlier this year I read lots of articles that assured me that the UK would remain in the EU, too, so lately I've begun to listen to the fears in my guts and not the comforting articles written by people who long for the same outcomes as me. 

When I woke this morning, just before seven o'clock, Trump was six votes short of the 270 he needed to win. Clinton was quite some way behind in the two thirties. I told the Minx who woke quite abruptly and we sat in bed a while looking at the news sites, Twitter, and Facebook. 

I don't know what will happen now. It would be bad enough if Trump delivered on his campaign promises but, like Brexit, I don't think he can or will. When I listened to his acceptance speech later in the day - conciliatory and inclusive, very unlike the Trump we saw in the campaigns - I thought how angry I'd be if I was a Trump supporter. Perhaps as angry as that Leave voter from Accrington, who when interviewed by the BBC recently, was furious to learn that we haven't left Europe yet.

I am such an optimist that at times in my life it's almost seemed like an illness. But these days, and today especially, I'm not feeling optimistic at all.