There’s something so dystopian about ice cream trucks as you pass them by. The dopplering of their cheery little tune sounds like a slowly dying music box and the mirthless man behind the wheel has no smile for the few children that DO come running up. Maybe it’s the weather and maybe it’s the news. Explosions in Boston. I have too many friends in Boston not to worry. It sounds like I’m glad I don’t have a lot of fast-running friends in Boston – but as they sort through the massacre my heart aches that things like this can happen.
There is no evidence of anything yet. I think even the vague news reports we’re hearing are mostly rehashed (no pun intended) Twitter posts from people who are actually THERE.
Newspapers are gobbling up whatever details they can grab and irresponsibly re-broadcasting. We’re listening to the radio, scanning channels – differing reports on casualties and injuries – you never trust any information till 24 hours later but I can’t be that patient. I’m watching Twitter and Facebook to hear about friends and see that they’re okay. I’m glad the girl who used to Live on Boylston has left…\
Well, I’m not going to speculate. I’ve heard one report of there being an IED involved, but I’m pretty sure that’s someone’s tweet being given official status by an understaffed news service.
Mew. It’s been a rough couple of weeks for news.
