Filthy English

Cover Filthy English
Genres: Fiction
My head throbbed, my throat ached, and it looked like a family of mice had taken up in my hair. I cranked up Sia on my phone, popped a couple of Aleve that I’d packed, and showered for half an hour.
Today was about me.
And I wanted to take in London—even if I felt like death warmed over.
Because I was still breathing and that meant something.
After a breakfast of pastries and jam, I felt much better. Months ago, I’d set up a guided walking tour for Hartford and me, so Lulu and I kept the reserv
...ation. With other tourists, we started our pilgrimage at the iconic Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament. I gazed up at the clock I’d only seen in pictures and inhaled the warm August air. It was a beautiful day, and I felt wonderfully overwhelmed by the history around me.
Eventually we made our way past quaint shops to Westminster Abbey, the place of coronations, burials, and royal marriages, containing over seven hundred years of British history. We spent two hours there, exploring the Royal Tombs, the Nave, and the Poets’ Corner.
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