Jack be nimble, Jack be quick....

J is for Jack the Ripper.....

"Jack" as he came to be called--- also known as "The Whitechapel Murderer" and "Leather Apron". The sensationalized, unidentified serial killer that brought Victorian London to its knees.

It was not safe to be a woman in the East End during the 1880s, especially a woman of the night.

Whitechapel became a place of dread and a feeding ground for macabre sensationalists. Public confidence in local authorities was shaken as one-by-one, "Jack" added another tragic soul to his list of conquests. His manner of execution was such that many remarked he must have had some medical training. Was he using these unfortunate women as a means of furthering some surgical 'fantasy'? Or, as a means of experimenting where he would have otherwise been shunned by other respected colleagues?

Whatever the reason for his dark and sadistic treatment of women, because he remained unnamed and free, "Jack" provided the imagination of the world with the epitome of evil. For, what fiction could ever be imagined that would equal the truth of these real horrors?

Even now, the unnamed man can only be described as a spectre, a shadow, a shapeless form without feature and, one assumes, without heart or conscience.

And, as mysteriously as this dastardly figure materialized, he was at once, gone ... just as mysteriously.

Was this spectral figure fact? Or, fiction? Was it the workings of one man? Or, a collection of unconnected, yet coincidentally similar crimes? Whatever the answers to any of these questions might be, we may never know, for indeed "Jack" was both nimble.... and quick....

A to Z reflections....

Another A to Z challenge comes to an end--- another collection of posts and poetry have been written, another deep breath of relief is released. For my fellow bloggers that survived as well, it's another 'challenge-completed' notch carved into the writing desk. I've come to enjoy my yearly foray into the world of all things alphabetical. This was my third year, though it was only the second year I had a workable theme (which made the challenge substantially easier than the first year I attempted this challenge.) And, though my first year was difficult because my focus was so scattered, I found this year was more difficult because I lost the enthusiasm that came with the first year excitement----excitement which helped me plug along until the end of the challenge. Year 3 was a success in the sense that I completed the challenge, though, this was the year that almost wasn't---- Somewhere about a third of the way through the challenge, I seriously considered...

Bitter Honey

Weaving dreams of beguiling gold, a future's price for happiness. What secrets do you, determined, hold? asks the summer wind's soft caress. A guarded name, a hidden hope. Spinning wheels clutching time, grasping straw that falls away, What dreams may come, we soon may find, won't recall at end of day. A cherished life, a memory lost.

A million lives, beneath a single sky.....

Though our feet leave different prints,our tongues sound different words, there's a mirrored rhythm in the beating of our hearts. Though born in different worlds, our eyes sharpened 'neath different moons, there's an unspoken truth in the warmth of our touch. We may walk in different strides and dream different dreams, we may speak in different voices, maybe swim in different streams. It's plain to see, when dark night falls, as all the stars shine through, that underneath it all, there's no difference 'tween me and you.

From the Inkwell, From the Vein.....

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