Some years back, I traveled to London with a college group. We were actually studying Children’s Literature in England; however, we got to do some additional excursions. On reflection of one of the most famous London Walks, The “Jack the Ripper” walk, I wrote this:
It was your typical foggy night. Standing outside the pub in Whitechapel, I decided to have my friend walk me home. We talked about ordinary things like the weather and the latest news. We both worked late shifts and were tired. As we walked, the hairs on the back of my neck started to stand on end. I couldn’t say what was causing it, just a sense something was off. My friend started talking about the latest girl who was found murdered nearby and what a shame it was that the girl would not see her lover again. Perhaps that’s what did it…the mention of a lover. I knew first hand who the girl was because she kept a room next to me. I glanced around casually, and noticed that the streets were deserted. The time was pretty late or early in the morning depending on your view. I looked at the dirty cobbled streets and made a quick decision. I pretended a rock was in my shoe and told my friend to stop a minute. Carefully taking my shoes off, I threw one at him and asked him to have a look for the rock. While he was busy catching the shoe, I made a break for it. I knew how far it was to find the nearest “Bobbie” and I also knew who the girls’ lover was. I would not be next Jack. Not this time.
It was just meant to be a teaser if you will. A short little piece on how someone would have felt if they figured out who the murderer was seconds before they realized they were in danger. Naturally, when I just heard moments ago, that they believe to have identified the killer after all these years, I was intrigued. Read more here if you are interested: Jack the Ripper Unmasked
It was only a mater of time…give or take a 126 years.
