BY DOMINIC WIGHTMAN
Dear Trolls,
What a day I had yesterday! The sort of day that reminds you life is rich, brimming with beauty, and meant to be savoured.
It began early, just before dawn, when the sky donned a soft, velvet blue—the perfect prelude to the sun’s grand arrival. I stepped out onto the deck, coffee in hand, allowing the cool morning air to envelop me. And then—there it was—the sunrise. A spectacle so stunning, it’s the kind of sight poets struggle to encapsulate and painters attempt to replicate in vain. The horizon blushed, then erupted in a riot of colours—reds, oranges, pinks, like the heavens had decided to throw a party, and I had front-row seats. As I stood there marvelling, my terrier scampered about my feet, blissfully unaware of the breathtaking show unfolding above us.
After such a morning, the rest of the day could have drifted by on autopilot, and I would have still deemed it incredible. Yet, the universe had more in store. My wife and I spent the day pottering around the charming port of Honfleur together—nothing particularly thrilling on paper, but everything felt imbued with vibrancy. It was one of those days where the small things resonated—the shared glances, the laughter over moments only we found amusing. For the record, we set out shopping for a coat but ended up with new leather belts. Time flew by, as it tends to do when you’re wrapped up in enjoyment.
Then came dinner. Oh, dinner was sublime. I’m speaking of one of those meals where every bite could never be topped—perfectly cooked, seasoned to perfection, accompanied by a glass of wine that paired so well it felt as though the grapes had whispered a little secret to the brilliant French chef.
Afterwards, we returned to the boat. The warmth of familiarity mingled with the thrill of anticipation. You can guess where this is headed, can’t you? A day that began with the splendour of a sunrise ended… well, let’s just say it culminated in a way that made us grateful for the rocking of the waves and the privacy of drawn curtains.
Being close to the one you love, sharing that intimacy and connection—it’s a different kind of sunrise altogether. If you know, you know. And if you don’t, perhaps that’s part of the problem.
Now, dear trolls, I can only imagine how your day compared. You, hunched over in a dim, dusty attic, squinting at your spittle-flecked screen. That flickering monitor, your sole source of light, casting a sickly glow on your face as you pecked out venomous comments with the enthusiasm of a disgruntled pigeon after crumbs. What do you see from your window? A brick wall? A telephone pole? A shed full of broken dreams? Perhaps an overgrown hedge, neglected like your social skills? The day stretches on with the monotony of a beige cubicle, interrupted only by the occasional thud of a neighbour’s footsteps or the unsettling farts from your boil-afflicted backsides as you shift in front of your screen.
Did you eat yesterday? Perhaps something microwaved—nuked into a facsimile of food? Or did you indulge and order takeaway? A lukewarm pizza, maybe, delivered by someone who looked at you with pity as you opened the door in your worn-out cardigan, your remaining hair askew as if you’d just been struck by lightning. And the zenith of your excitement? Probably receiving a “like” on that comment you left on someone else’s post—a fleeting dopamine hit from the digital gods to sustain you in your quest to spread joylessness.
To whichever one of you it was who left an abusive message for my fifteen-year-old daughter, oh dear.
And here we find ourselves, you and I. Living very different lives, it seems. Yet, we are equals, or so the theory goes. We breathe the same air, tread the same earth, share the same blood. We’re meant to be part of this grand human experiment together, aren’t we? Yet, I often wonder if you’re testing that theory. You, with your bitterness, petty jealousy, and desperate attempts to drag others down to the murky depths of your existence. Are we truly the same? Because on days like today—having just experienced heaven on earth yesterday—it feels like I’m soaring while you’re all still figuring out how to deploy the landing gear.
But I’m trying to be generous here. After all, we’re all human, right? So, I genuinely hope tomorrow proves to be a better day for you. Perhaps you’ll even step outside to witness a sunrise for yourself. You never know—it might do you some good.
Yours,
Dom