Getting Home





If I had known this morning I would have gone home from Kings Cross, wasn't until I got to work that I realised the full horror of what had occured. The way home was weird - got a train to London Bridge easily, from there the best advice was walk. People at London Bridge station were studying the departures closely, London Bridge itself was spookily empty of traffic for rush hour, just swarming with pedestrians. I tramped along in the sunshine. Eventually 141s started passing me on their way to London Bridge. I strolled past Moorgate, Old Street, Gainsborough Studio Apartments. Stopped for a coke at the Rosemary Branch. Pissed off the barmaid because I asked for some crisps after she'd rung up the coke - she threw them onto the bar at me (wish I'd told her there's no need for that, but I didn't). Then strolled onto Newington Green, where the buses seemed to be more boardable. Caught a bus from there to home. My ex-boyfriend got on the bus at Manor House and I wasn't able to get out of having one those conversations which are dutifully polite (hows your parents, sister had a baby, how did you get here, blah blah). Still I don't have to go in tomorrow.