From The Annals of Pretty Writing

In the hours after the Thursday morning bombings in London, it seemed as if everyone was on the streets, walking home. With the Tube shut down and buses barred from the central part of the city, hundreds of thousands of people went trudging in the bright sunlight—across Westminster Bridge and in front of Westminster Abbey and down Birdcage Walk, next to St. James’s Park, which, in commemoration of the sixtieth anniversary of the end of the Second World War, was lined with ancient ambulances from the Blitz.

The air smelled of fine chedder cheese.