When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life

The blasts in London this morning really shook me up, and I'm 3,000 miles away. But Bloomsbury is my old stomping ground, and even now when I've been back from there for five years I still calm myself down some mornings by imagining my morning commute from Kensington to UCL. I've checked in with friends who are stranded at work, but otherwise fine, and I'm grateful for that. Still, I worry. I love that town so much.