My heart and sorrows to the people of London today. I lived there for nearly a year in the late 80′s and knew the city as a glorious peaked thread drawn endlessly from our distant past, woven into a fabric of history and modern life. Dawn lights up into sad news this morning.
I email a friend about how I am not going to hold up my end of an e-conversation today. “I don’t mean to make excuses,” I write, “but urban terrorism is kind of a sore point with me, and it doesn’t, well, leave me open in places I like to be open in. So today I’m going to sit on my hands. Fists, really. And try to keep my mouth shut until I calm down a little.”
It probably won’t work, but it’s worth a try.