Last night, Harry missed the last train home from London.
He was still in Parsons Green, right out on the district line.

I woke my mum up, and we sat in bed surrounded by tube maps and train routes and timetables. We realised he could get the train from Paddington instead. However, within minutes, the tube stopped for the night, making it impossible.

We frantically tried to work out a way for him to get to Paddington via a series of buses. We phoned him with the details just in time - he managed to memorise the route just before his phone's battery died.

For what seemed like hours we sat, not knowing whether he'd got the bus he needed, or whether he even remembered what bus he needed. The fact that there were riots all over London didn't help allay our fears. Eventually, he managed to phone us from a payphone in Paddington station.
He got home just before 5 this morning.

I'm tired.




(Stole this idea from something I saw a while back. I couldn't find it again today though, so this might actually look nothing like the original. I wasn't gonna blip it but in the absence of anything better it shall do)