As I make myself go out, i walk towards the Chelsea and Westminster hospital, decided to go sit in a cafe nearby, have a snack perhaps even blog, if baby S is up for it. And my mind wonders off picturing what I would do in case terror would hit. Do you call, do you text, do you run for your life, do you stay to help. A hospital seems like a pretty good target. So many vulnerable people trapped and unable to leave irrespective of a bomb. I push those thoughts away and confidently pass in front of the hospital.
As I sit I know I want to write. As baby S finally decides to doze off, i wonder if I will ever go to such an event again. I had promised myself I wouldn't and then I found myself in the Euro finals in Paris, clearly not the most immune place. It was only after I was on my way there that I remembered why I had wanted nothing to do with the Euro games. But Portugal in the final was just too appealing. Will a singer be too appealing for me to take the chances and join in? Most likely. And most statisticians would probably add that I would be safer than just crossing the road. All well understood, but it seems that it is a compounded danger and seems to be growing. I can look both ways as I cross the road, wait for green lights, pay careful attention. But what can one really do to avoid being part of the Manchester terror?