Molly Naylor’s candid autobiographical show about her experiences as one of those affected by the 7/7 bombings in London takes the form of a verse monologue. At times chatty and natural, at others more lyrical, and occasionally building to a rhythmic climax of internally rhyming half-rap, it’s pacy and varied throughout.

There is a pleasing honesty and light humour to her story, a highlighting of little familiar quirks of thought and the way certain normal rules still apply even in the most extraordinary situations, like when she is satisfied to find out in the immediate aftermath of the bombing that the woman across from her was, as she guessed, Parisian, or when, months later, she looks at a picture of ‘her’ bomber and finds him rather handsome.

But there are bigger issues at stake here too – with five years’ distance it’s become a story about growing up as much as it is about a personal account of a national event. Naylor’s first solo show as writer and performer is simply staged, linguistically rich, and sensitively balanced between light and dark, humdrum and lyrical.

The Zoo, 662 6892, until 30 Aug (not 17, 24), 1.55pm, £7.50.