Sad news from Carl and trouble in London

Dry toast this morning, and feeling queasy and tired.  Lorraine drove me down to the station.  The train broke down half in and half out of Blackfriars station, something wrong with the doors or brakes or something. Amazing how long it takes for a train to empty out when only one set of doors is open. More than twenty minutes. Almost half an hour late to work, walking there in the rain.

A strange day, with the most excruciatingly badly organised teleconference with people in New York that I have ever been a party to. Managed to leave early, however after missing the early train. The sound of a helicopters outside. As this afternoon a lone madman had driven into people crossing Westminster Bridge, and killed a policeman just inside the houses of Parliament. He was shot dead.  Now I'm writing this at the end of the day, it seems that five people are dead and 40 were injured. Dreadful stuff.

The next train was cancelled. I took another train but this was delayed blah, blah. Another poor journey. But looked over towards Westminster and ironically there was a beautiful sky, with deep pink clouds.

I talked to Carl, after he texted me saying his brother Rory has died. Rory was Carl's older half brother, who I knew as a lad, but I hadn't spoken to him since my early twenties. Carl a bit numb, but as is often the way, he had some mixed feelings about Rory. By coincidence a tough day for his business too, so not the best of times for Carl. Good to talk to him though.

Home and thinking about bed quite quickly. However feeling noticeably better than I was at the same time yesterday.


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