Swept Up — Part One: Summer
"Trees are felled and walls crumble, but you swing back on your rocker, convinced it’s just a phase."
"Trees are felled and walls crumble, but you swing back on your rocker, convinced it’s just a phase."
In a seaside house, memories of an empire clash with a crumbling present. As protests grow and land is seized, old rituals like whiskey and wafers persist. But behind the big red gates, an endangered way of life quietly faces the slow, inevitable encroachment of change.
You watch the tank-and-tracksuit ladies scurry home before their usual six rounds, thinking absently about the mosaic of cultures and communities woven into the seven islands that make a city.
"Wet earth masks the smell of trouble brewing outside, and you ignore the slight whiff of tension in the air, breathe in the familiar memory of white desi corn, sprinkled with chilli and lime."
Racism and Islamophobia surge in Britain as far-right mobs spread violence. It's time for decisive action against this hatred, not just condemnation.