The past occupies my present. I make tea, bake biscuits, cut the grass. The change is too vast to comprehend.
I take the garbage out, go to the shops, do the laundry. The machine runs out of control and the engineers panic. Old gods shake their shaggy heads and snuffle in the underbrush.
When it’s all over, when today has become yesterday: maybe, then, we’ll be able to tell what it meant.