Tristan Hazell lives and works in the shadow of the Westway on Portobello Road. What follows is a collection of observations, reviews, social comment, fiction, poetry, art criticism and more. Much of it is fiction and some of it will offend someone somewhere, I hope.

Thursday, June 15, 2017

Grenfell Tower fire. Ghosts in the windows.

I will not be posting images of the fire, there are enough of those already.


This is the image I now live with constantly. The tower is perhaps 100 metre away, it looms over the area and will now be a constant reminder of the horrors that created it. The garden is still being showered with charred remnants of cladding and insulation; what many of us believe to be the fatal factor in the inferno. The air is corrupt.

I cannot help but relive Wednesdays events each time I look at the blackened tower. I see ghosts waving lights in the window openings, I hear the screams of those poor trapped souls. I sat  watching the fire, unable to do a thing as it ripped through the building. A nightmare made real.

For the families of the victims this must be an awful sight and there is no escaping it. My heart bleeds for them.

The fatality numbers, presently 17, will rise dramatically and only when that is known will the full horror of the disaster be realised.

The community is devastated but in that devastation is coming together to do whatever it can to help in the aftermath.

No one will forget this. Let us hope that the Government will act upon it.

No comments:

Post a Comment