Word: busful
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...Central Line platform was by no means deserted at 9:20 a.m., though the usual crush was reduced to a gentle throng. Inside, seated passengers flicked through newspapers, digesting photos of victims and rescuers, the mangled red No. 30 bus and graphics mapping the bomb sites. As we approached Liverpool Street, an announcement that the station had been closed due to a security alert was greeted with a few raised eyebrows and grudging nods. It was calm, quiet and pensive; we all knew what everyone else was thinking...
...yesterday passed, as usual, within a few streets of King?s Cross and Russell Square stations, just minutes after bombs were going off in the tunnels far below. This morning, there was no escaping the memory, yet the mood on the street is different, subtly changed. The queues at bus stops were long but no one was jostling and shoving, cars stopped to offer lifts, drivers waved pedestrians on, and bicycles-far more than usual and many in need of a few repairs-were out in force. London is sad but, against all odds, it feels like a nicer place...
...Every morning, around 9:10 a.m., the 59 bus creeps out of Streatham Hill Bus Garage to start its journey through London to Euston Station. By the time it reaches Brixton about 10 minutes later, it?s standing room only, filled with people jostling for space on their morning commute. And it?s noisy. People chat loudly to each other or on their mobile phones, while mothers try to comfort wailing babies and kids turn their MP3 players up so high that the music seeps out from their headphones in a buzzing, tinny beat. It stays that way until...
...today. Today, the 59 began its journey as it always does, but at bus stops where crowds stood yesterday, only handfuls of people milled around. Some stops were completely deserted and the bus sailed past them, zipping through traffic so light, it reached Waterloo 10 minutes earlier than usual. Only half-full for the entire trip, the bus was eerily quiet. People spoke to each other in hushed tones; mobile-phone conversations were kept short and serious; kids kept their music for themselves. Even the babies were silent. Once in a while, passengers on their way to Russell Square...
...buses looked a bit more comfortable in their seats. Riding into town from Hammersmith, teenage girls chattered brightly on the bottom deck and finally exited in a fit of giggles. It was almost business as usual. On any other day the sharp knock at the back of the bus as it approached Piccadilly Circus might have been interpreted as something mundane: an umbrella hitting the floor, a high heel?s clatter. Today it provoked a panic for one woman seated in the back row of the lower floor. She looked around anxiously for a minute or so and then surged...