I woke up today after having been dreaming about Jack the Ripper (NOT something I do often, I assure you). After a moment's puzzling over why this might be, I realized that it is the 122nd anniversary today of the murder of Annie Chapman, and two years ago I happened to choose this day to do a solo tour of all the Ripper sites, based not on the occasion but because no rain was forecast for that day of my vacation. It's strange what the subconscious can do.
Here's to the memory of Dark Annie and her terribly unfortunate life and death.
Here's to the memory of Dark Annie and her terribly unfortunate life and death.
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