Bastards

I've never heard a bomb blast before - not in real life, at least.

I knew it was a bomb - I'd had an inkling: I'd heard a stream of sirens, going on for minutes at an end - not like one vehicle approaching or departing, nor one stuck in traffic, but a whole series of emergency vehicles. I'd checked the BBC website, and heard about an explosion at Liverpool street.

I was discussing some catalogue records with a colleague when we heard the retort. Load, sharp and short. Not like all the sundry bangs you hear round London all the time - differnt. We guessed King's Cross; and he looked up at the clock in justifiable worry, wondering if his wife would be getting into that station about then.

It was closer though, it was at Tavistock place. The retort we heard was people being torn apart on a bus. You can just about se my workplace - UCL - just a couple of streets away.

At lunchtime, police and ambulances were everywhere - Gower street was closed to help them access.

We left work early - lots of people we're going to have a hard time getting home. It was raining as well - I thought perhaps God really is on their side then. I've never liked God anyway.

As I walked home down Hampstead road, among the strems of people walking that usually empty route, a quote from T.S. Elliott occurred to me.

A crowd flowed over London bridge.
So many - I ahd no idea death had undone so many.

Least, that's how I remmber it. I'm sure a crowd will have flowed over London bridge today. Just now, I've sen people walking down my strets with maps, clearly walking unfamiliar roads home.

The small mercy is not many sem to have died - many have ben maimed, and the fact it happened at all is bad enough.

I've nothing to add - today - now isn't the time for politics. Bastards.