It’s hard to find any type of rhyme or reason to what happened in Manchester this week. Probably because under normal circumstances, neither of those things can be applied to events as horrific as these.
There is no sense, no logic, no lens of regularity in which we can look through.
But for some reason or another, the 22-year-old terrorist who walked into Manchester Arena on Monday evening and detonated a nail bomb decided that evening and that concert and that crowd above all others was to be the one in which he made his statement to the world.
He decided that instead of attending an event filled predominantly with adults, a stadium filled with little girls, young women, mothers, aunts, fathers collecting their daughters, and young men enjoying the work of an inimitable 23-year-old woman would make for a better political statement. That people experiencing a night of unadulterated fun and energetic joy would shout his message to the world.