Friday, 23 September 2005 | Balloon

My good friend S. has been sending reports from Houston. She traveled there with her boss (another journalist) via nearly empty plane yesterday, from where she could see the line of stagnant vehicles pointing away from the city.

In her hotel, she was advised to simply close the curtains to avoid being hit with flying glass, and she watched as the hotel employees cleared the courtyard of trash cans and wrought iron benches. She and her boss haven't been able to do much, as the gas shortage has made them essentially immobile, so they're just waiting, rather aimlessly, she says. It makes me think of the dumb (but real) anxiety you feel when somebody's blowing up a balloon, and you're waiting for it to pop.

She's in her room right now, and just received a letter under the door, telling her to bring pillows and blankets to the hotel ballroom when the evacuation alarm rings between 3 and 4 a.m. Included in that message was a reminder not to bring weapons.(!) Oh, Texas.