Everyone is struggling. A friend told me her brother-in-law, a former soldier with post-traumatic stress disorder, is so triggered by the threat of a nuclear attack, he’s started talking about shooting random Koreans in the street. At the University Press where I work, I see colleagues sit at their desks with red eyes and can’t tell if they’re raw from tears or exhaustion or both.

One day, when I went to buy lunch from a café near my office, the waitress told me her university student daughter was so scared about being away from her parents that she’d begged them to take time off work and stay at home with her – just in case. ‘We can’t afford to both book the week off,’ the waitress explained. ‘So we’ve opted for alternate days. That way, she knows she always has at least one of us with her all the time.’

How it feels to live on Guam, an island under constant nuclear threat