Most after-the-apocalypse type scenarios would deal with extreme situations, but the rather more believable effects of climate change in a recognisable England are convincingly nasty. Particularly, this is how it would feel for a single (deserted) woman when the social constraints have become patchy and unpredictable. This would have a major resonance for anyone with a feeling for how fragile our society is at a climatic tipping point- isn't that all of us now?
With the panel on my back and the wind behind me, I am forced to walk at a faster pace than I have the energy for. Falling debris taps out little tunes on my hard hat and I march along in time, or imagine that I do. A fine young conifer has been blown across the road in the exact place the dead fox occupied. I sidle around it and make a mental note never to stop long in that spot.