Beaten by the Bombs

I tried to use the metro today but the bombers struck me by freezing my train just as I had got in it at 9pm.

So, another a second date in history will conjour up images of hate, violence, pain and death. After 9/11, the world will speak of 7/7.

We, frustrated sardines thought it was just another transport breakdown and cursed under our breaths as we were thrown off. We trooped over to a bus-stop to join the snaking queue.

After watching a swollen bus go by, I managed to get on its partner. Aha, I thought I might beat the system but little did I know that my hubris was about to be punished. As I reached the home of Sherlock Holmes @ Baker Street, I was thrown off public transport for the second time today, as the bus driver refused to go further.

At 10am, I found out there were bombs on a bus as well as the metros. It was time to join another queue. Bus after bus flew by without stopping. The few that stopped only excreted their human cargo without feeding on yet more.

A few plucky souls tried to slip in through the back doors but the vigilant drivers threaten to stop driving unless the "white coat" got off.

I saw few taxis but those I saw carried their privileged singletons.

The bewildered crowds beside me tried to use their mobile phones but the networks were overloaded. So, in our hunger for news, we watched gaped at the TVs in the Sony shop.

The buses slowly died out.

The gloom was intensified by a light drizzle that lowered the moods of those who walked.

After waiting 2 hours, I was told that the buses weren't running in the centre.

I was routed and after conceding defeat, I decided to retreat. I aimlessly waited for a bus to leave the centre but none came.

Then, bursting through the shower, I saw my knight on a white charger....