My dad showed a kind of despair I had never seen during the first Trump term. How can I represent what he said here? You would need poetic, allegorical language to do it justice. He made predictions, some of which have already come to pass. And the ones that haven’t yet—the unthinkable, the abyss. He had come to accept that there was nothing left between the world he understood and its end. To represent his disillusionment would be like showing him naked. I’m already closer to that than I should be.