The Quiet,

After two weeks of being back at my parents' house in Manchester, I was feeling really relaxed and ready to take on anything... 

And then what happened, well, happened. I've deliberately refrained from saying anything because I wasn't directly involved, but then when I went back again this weekend it made me realise - not for the first time, but it brought it home more I guess - just how something like that can affect a city and how it reaches out and touches everyone around it. And it hurts (well, of course, it does). 

I might not have been there, but a friend's little sister was. I might not have been one of the emergency responders on one of the worst calls of their career, but my neighbour was. I might not be one of the staff at the hospitals across Manchester treating the life changing injuries which people sustained, but they are people I have worked with.

The best thing I got to do, I firmly believe, was to add to the field of flowers that is covering the square, fight with the wind to light a candle and spend a few minutes in the relative silence. It was to walk around the city with a friend that I haven't seen in a long time and not let this take my city away. 

Yes, it is true that we could be scared, but that's not Manchester, it's not Mancunian, and it certainly isn't me. 

It says something about the buzz - and yes I do use that word deliberately - that we created this weekend with tattoo artists across the city, across the country - heck I think some American places even came on board in the end!! - throwing beautiful events to unite us under a inked banner of Manchester bees, the buzz created by the runners who still got up and smashed a 10k to raise money for all kinds of charities, and also for the buses, proudly displaying the #we<3MCR message across the city.