Once again the feeling that terror is too close is overwhelming. Paris was a turning point for me, after which I decided it was time to look for a less cosmopolitan place to live. Then the terror hits small places and you start wondering that maybe we will now get small lone sharks instead but in the UK the police seems to be having it under control. Then Westminster. And last night Manchester. In an event any of us could be part of.
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?
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