London - 2
Today I thought I had to go home via Kings Cross. Since I changed my route after the events of last Thursday I've avoided it.
It's only 45 minutes walk from my office. Pleasant enough in the early evening as the heat of the day had cooled a little. Some of working London were starting the weekend on pavements outside pubs, some were walking like me - to homes, to meet friends, to tubes and buses.
Euston Road was busy - just as you would expect, with traffic and people. Not until I found I was already walking past St Pancras did I feel a slight flicker of apprehension. And then, Kings Cross.
I walked past the pictures of missing persons. How sad, I thought, but these papers look forlorn. Their flimsiness was apparent in the breeze. These faces know they aren't coming home.
Past the short queue for the book of condolence was the corner where the flowers were. A tringle of space about twenty meters squared piled with mutlicoloured flowers in their multicoloured wrappings. You could go inside but I paused at the railings and watched the people looking thoughtfully at the tributes. Then I moved a few steps along to find a little space of my own at the railings and in the sunshine I closed my eyes and said a short prayer.
Just as I finished I felt a wonderful heavy warm floral scent hit my nose. I wondered for a moment if I imaged it but I opened my eyes and there they were - a thousand flowers, piled up and baking on the pavement, blocking out the smell of the city and giving the air a fragrance which suggested hope, and peace.
I tried to hold the smell of the flowers with me for as long as I could as I turned and walked towards the station.
It's only 45 minutes walk from my office. Pleasant enough in the early evening as the heat of the day had cooled a little. Some of working London were starting the weekend on pavements outside pubs, some were walking like me - to homes, to meet friends, to tubes and buses.
Euston Road was busy - just as you would expect, with traffic and people. Not until I found I was already walking past St Pancras did I feel a slight flicker of apprehension. And then, Kings Cross.
I walked past the pictures of missing persons. How sad, I thought, but these papers look forlorn. Their flimsiness was apparent in the breeze. These faces know they aren't coming home.
Past the short queue for the book of condolence was the corner where the flowers were. A tringle of space about twenty meters squared piled with mutlicoloured flowers in their multicoloured wrappings. You could go inside but I paused at the railings and watched the people looking thoughtfully at the tributes. Then I moved a few steps along to find a little space of my own at the railings and in the sunshine I closed my eyes and said a short prayer.
Just as I finished I felt a wonderful heavy warm floral scent hit my nose. I wondered for a moment if I imaged it but I opened my eyes and there they were - a thousand flowers, piled up and baking on the pavement, blocking out the smell of the city and giving the air a fragrance which suggested hope, and peace.
I tried to hold the smell of the flowers with me for as long as I could as I turned and walked towards the station.
posted by Kate Allan @ 9:23 pm
1 Comments:
At 3:42 am,
Anonymous said…
Beautiful post Kate. My thoughts are with you and the people of London. And while this may not be the most appropriate place to say this, CONGRATS on your first published novel. It sounds so perfectly something I would read, so I'll have to track down a copy. All the best to you. LG
Post a Comment
<< Home