Another Thursday and another attack on the transportation system in London - thankfully though, this was on a much smaller scale and no-one has been hurt.
This afternoon, I board the bus taking me home from school. It is the same type of vehicle that has been attacked on both occasions. I go upstairs and sit a row from the front, next the window. Two stops down, a man walks up the stairs lugging a holdall. He has darkish complexion - he could be middle-eastern? I can't tell. He sits next to me.
I look at him and I look at the bag. What if it is holding a bomb? I wouldn't stand a chance would I? I try to reason in my mind that he's probably harmless but I find myself jumping to extraordinary conclusions.
I take the decision to go downstairs and find myself a seat next to a largish lady. The innocent man gets off about two stations later. I feel bad for having suspected him in the first place.
Further on, a mother gets on with her two young children. They are holding balloons. She sits in front of us and about three minutes later, one of the balloons suddenly pops. The woman next to me nearly jumps out of her skin. I reassure her that it was only a balloon.
I get off the bus a little while later, relieved yet slightly shaken by the experiences I've had since initially boarding.
And now, I finally understand what Israelis have been living with for the last eleven years. Guess what? I'm scared - very very scared. The trusted London bus, so renowned around the world is no longer my friend and I miss our relationship more than I can describe.
London 2005 is not a city I know any more.