I have seen hell on earth. It is:
the five mile tail back as minor road meets major at a T-junction.
The family pet left panting and distressed in the car with just a sliver of window open.
The cry of a toddler as his ice-cream slithers down his T-shirt to the sand and his mother gives him the rough side of her tongue.
The double parking down the beach road blocking the emergency ambulance’s access.
The group of bored teenagers throwing stones at a seagull with an injured wing.
The cliff top caravan park where the caravans are packed in so close you can shake hands with your neighbour without ever leaving the comfort of your sitting room.
Men’s white thighs and chests turning red-raw as they refuse to be anointed with Ambre Solaire.
The queues for loos denuded of toilet paper, soap or means of drying hands.
Irritation turning to anger; the sound of hard hand on soft flesh; the crescendo of a child’s wail punctuated by “I warned you.”
I have seen hell on earth – it’s a sun and heat starved nation enjoying Bank Holiday Monday and the first hot day of the year.
Why do we do it to ourselves and each other?