Eternal Veil

Chapter 3

The flight has been painfully boring. I made it about 10 minutes in the air before realizing, to my horror, that every one of my books is packed away in cargo. Nonetheless, I've done what I can to keep myself well-occupied; read an outdated People's magazine 4 times through, drew imaginary shapes out of passing clouds, listened to a married couple behind me bicker with each other over the air conditioning being on or off. I don't often find myself falling into boredom but, Lord help me, this flight has been pure torture.

In attempts to pass the time, I drone in and out of sleep. An aimless effort. After what seems like hours of trying at rest, I look to the window and my mouth falls open.

The view is unlike anything I've ever seen before. The first thing that catches my eye is the large, winding river making its way through the heart of the city. The moonlight and urban glow produced by the city reflect off the water, transforming the river into a sea of glistening gems. Shadows of various bridges create scattered silhouettes across its rippling surface, linking the two halves of the city together as one.

Incredible.

As we get closer, the city begins to take shape. Buildings of all sizes fill my view, their windows glowing softly, casting a warm, golden hue against the night sky. The streets weaving between these buildings an intricate, glowing pattern, bustling with tiny, moving lights that must be cars and buses. I'm utterly mesmerized. Descending further, rooftops of various designs and colors spread out beneath us, each illuminated differently, each telling its own story. There's a sense of vitality that roars valiantly as I look down onto the evening landscape. What should be a victim of the darkness that comes with night, is instead a bustling, breathing community. I can't help but stare in awe.

My trance is broken by the landing."This is your captain speaking," the speaker echoes from overhead, "Welcome to London. The local time is 11:38 and the temperature is a beautiful 60 degrees. Please remain seated with your seatbelt fastened until the seatbelt sign has been turned off."

I rustle around in my backpack for the slip of paper containing the hotel address I jotted down earlier. After a moment of rummaging, my fingers brush against the crumpled note.

St. Giles Hotel

Once we arrive at the gate, passengers around me begin to gather their belongings in preparation to depart the plane. I follow suit, standing up and stretching my stiff limbs. I'm beginning to feel exhaustion weighing on my body, despite it technically being early evening my time.

After what seemed like an eternity of waiting, me and my row 29 companions are finally given the cue to disembark. As I step off the plane and into the jet bridge, a cool wave of airport air greets me. I follow the stream of passengers through the terminal, finding myself surprised to see such a bustling crowd at this hour. When I reach baggage claim, it doesn't take long to retrieve my two obnoxiously large suitcases which, by the way, both drastically exceeded the weight limit. After heaving them off the carousel, and nearly being toppled over in the process, I proceed outside to the arrival circle to find a ride.

I scan the conglomerate of waiting cabs, and again find myself surprised by the amount of people, let alone drivers, out at this hour. I hail down the nearest one and lug my baggage to the curb edge. The driver steps out, a warm smile strewn across his elderly face, and helps me load my bags into the trunk.

I hop in the backseat, letting out a sigh mixed with relief as I settle into the comfortable leather beneath me. "St. Giles Hotel please," I say, returning his smile with my own. He nods, and we pull away from the curb, merging into the flow of traffic. Part of me hopes the ride is a long one as I rest my head against the chilly taxi window and allow my heavy eyes to give in.