I suppose that, alongside the awesome, thrilling stuff I record here about life in this great city, I ought to touch upon the grizzly stuff too. It has been quite a mundane, drizzly day, spent mostly with my friend Eddy as he helped me carry out a few routine chores. Nothing noteworthy really, except that, when we were just coming out of a shop on Eltham high street earlier, we noticed that police cars and ambulances had started to gather on the road just a few metres from where we were. They hadn’t been there when we went into the shop just twenty minutes before, but all of a sudden it appeared that something quite catastrophic had happened. A blue tent had been erected on the road, but apart from that I couldn’t see much. Ed tried to take a closer look, and told me that it appeared that a young boy had been knocked down by a bus: it looked like he was still breathing, but was in a pretty bad state.

Things like this really get to me; I feel extremely upset by what just unfolded in front of me a couple of hours ago. It’s just an average, damp, Tuesday afternoon. I was just out shopping, yet at a moment’s notice something catastrophic had happened. We didn’t hang around, but thought it best to return home. From what I have heard since then though, the news about the boy isn’t good. Such things make me reflect how delicate life is, and how quickly things can change.