I told hubby I'd like to get away for a while after he got back. He said no, we can't afford it. Which is true. Doesn't matter though, cause, if I don't get away, I'm going to shatter. I need quiet. Deep, resounding, sound sucking quiet. I don't think I'm going to get it. I did start crying, but not much. Of course, with me, a single tear is like sobbing to normal people. Some guy from the mosque showed up, so I wiped my face and made my escape.
On the way out, I snapped some pictures of whitechapel street. They are all taken from the front steps of the Royal London Hospital. Since I'm using LJ gallary to store the pics, they have come out with all life sucked from them. eh.
You want a great picture? Put a dead tree in it ;) Even makes a phone booth and pizza hut look good.
The right bay window is said (by some) to be where they think Jack the Ripper stood, as he watched the hospital and ... the ladies on the street.
I kind of like this one, just because of the speeding car. There were like 6 cop cars screaming by, but my shutter was too slow to catch them, by the time they left the frame.
Just pointing down whitechapel.