Day of days

My heart is not in this. I flung together two pictures only because I want to say something but words and I are not getting on tonight.

I was in the dentist's waiting room this morning when I got a phone call from one of our volunteers to say that no-one could get into the office. For a moment I thought they were waiting for me to unlock but no, the street was cordoned off because of a 'fear for welfare' incident, involving chemicals. The volunteers were in the pub on the corner, drinking coffee, waiting for news.

When I got into the dentist's chair I saw that the bottom of my trousers was soaked with blood. I'd thought the bike hitting my leg as it fell when I was locking it had just bruised me. No.

So after the dentist I went to the doctor's surgery with a book for what I assumed would be a long appointmentless wait. Another phone call. The street was still cordoned off. All the emergency services were there, some in chemical suits. The nurse called me in. The amazing NHS put me back together again in just 15 minutes.

Another call. We could get in. I went. The atmosphere was shaky. It wasn't just me. It turned out that one of the volunteers had tripped over a kerb and fallen. Another had been hit by a bicycle. We were in an in-between world where nothing was quite as it should be. Except the emergency services, being solid amid the swirling apprehension. Doing.

Then we heard that the body of a young woman had been found in a house just down the street.




And Trump.