Tens of thousands of people, from all walks of life, are lining the streets of central London to get one last glimpse of the Queen before she is laid to rest. Queen Elizabeth II is lying-in-state in Westminster Hall, and the queues to see her are so great that the government has urged mourners to avoid joining the queue until at least 4pm on Friday, as it has reached full capacity.
The Mirror's features editor Zoe Forsey recalls the unforgettable moment she went to Westminster Hall to the Queen for the final time.
A war veteran in wheelchair stands next to a teenager boy in a baseball cap and tracksuit bottoms. A tall gentleman in a kilt towers over a little girl in a party dress waving a Union flag. A tearful woman holds the hand of an excitable young boy who is dressed in a slightly-too-big suit, clearly bought in a rush for the sad occasion.
Some of the men are dressed in black three-piece suits alongside women in formal black hats. Others are wearing shorts and waterproofs jackets, essential for the 10-plus hours they've spent queuing to get into this room.
To say the Queen lying in state at Westminster Hall has attracted people from all walks of life is an understatement. I've watched the BBC's stream of this historic event for longer than I would like to admit, like many others I've found it calming and comforting during a chaotic few days.
But nothing can prepare you for stepping into that room and seeing it in real life. The silence is remarkable.
There are never fewer than 100 people in the historic room, but you could be completely alone under the stone-arched ceiling. TV coverage shows tearful mourners stopping to bow their heads or curtsey as they stand in front of the coffin, which is draped with the Royal Standard.
But for me, the moment that people prepared to leave the hall was far more moving. I didn't see one person who didn't look emotional as they walked along the stretch of carpet after the coffin, slowly processing what they had just done.
For many the emotion didn't appear to hit until a few seconds after they pass the guards, with several breaking down in tears after five or six steps. One women was so overcome that she couldn't walk, with a group of people around her taking her by the arms to support her as she broke down in tears.
A lad in his early 20s face bore a look of surprise as tears fell onto his cheeks, clearly shocked by how much the moment had affected him. But as they make their way out the Hall's huge doors, back into the hustle and bustle of central London, they take one final look over their shoulder.
One man, wearing jeans with medals pinned to his t-shirt, got down on one knee and closed his eyes for a few seconds before walking out. Two women stopped and put their arms around each other as they took a last moment with her.
Away from the spotlight, there is a second, more private moment to look back at the heartbreaking scene. Looking back at the coffin of a 96-year-old women, a mother, a grandmother, a great-grandmother, who dedicated 70 years of life to service.
You can leave your tributes to Queen Elizabeth II here.
