East Milton Square Mga Nobela at Kwento

TIME: DAY 19 OF EXILE, 13:00 HOURS. LOCATION: SECTOR 6 - THE NEON SQUARE. STATUS: RESPITE. The Neon Square was designed to be a monument to corporate invincibility. It was an expanse of flawless white marble and polished chrome, larger than four city blocks, bordered by high-end luxury boutiques and manicured, synthetic botanical gardens. Now, it looked like the staging ground for the apocalypse.

I told Josh that we should drive; I did not want to miss the scenery, and so we can stop in the towns that are on the way to Scotland. Our first stop is Milton Keynes; Josh takes me through the crisscrossed redways to the museums, then afterward to the open green space of the Buckinghamshire countryside. And do not forget the Snozone, I honestly never thought Josh could skie, but it was absolutely great fun. Our second stop is in Birmingham City; Josh takes me to show me the Bull Ring, now not that I truly felt like taking a photo with the said iconic Bull. But what did grab me is the exquisite 19th-century buildings and the Art Gallery.

We pull into the basement parking of Sofia's apartment complex, the concrete walls enclosing us in a dimly lit cavern. Following her lead, we ascend to the second floor, traversing a corridor adorned with nondescript doors until we reach the one at the far end. Nestled in the upper echelons of London's East Side, the apartment complex exudes an air of sophistication and exclusivity.

About as vibrantly as the sudden flash from enormous jumbotrons. “What the hell…?” I suck in a breath. Out the window, I see… “London’s version of Times Square?” And holy hell, it’s sensational! As the limo pulls alongside a curb that’s clearly marked as a No Parking zone, Jameson explains, “This is Piccadilly Circus—‘Circus’ denoting that it’s a circular road junction. There’s also a Tube station underneath. Piccadilly was built in 1819, as opposed to Times Square being originally constructed in the 1870s, as Longacre Square, named after Long Acres Square, here in London.”

ELENA’S POV McPherson Square, Washington DC. 11:47 AM. We sat on a bench near the fountain, surrounded by the mundane bustle of office workers on lunch breaks and tourists snapping photos of the statue. It felt surreal to be amidst normal people living normal lives, eating sandwiches and checking emails, while we waited to meet a Russian mobster's son-in-law who might be leading us into a trap.

Conveniently, one of those little detours had taken them to the Millennium Bridge and they had walked halfway across it and taken a few good pictures from there. Afterwards, they managed to find St. Paul’s Cathedral, walked around inside for a while, sat in the pews to rest their feet and then climbed up to the Whispering Gallery and the Stone Gallery. The higher they got, the paler June turned. She muttered that she didn’t really like heights all that much and then took the fastest way down again. After the cathedral they walked on to see Trafalgar Square, took pictures from all angles and then started making their way to the last sight on Ellen and Rachel’s list: Buckingham Palace…

I sat straighter in my seat, watching the smog and debris of the Human World disappear, replaced by another version of this part of London that hadn’t been reduced to rubble. When I glanced through the back window at Trafalgar Square, it was intact, complete with Nelson’s Column and the four lions. “Nearly there.” Wulfie continued down the Mall, a tree-lined road that linked the square to Buckingham Palace. Admiralty Arch stood in the middle, a massive C-shaped structure that curved from one side of the Mall to the other. The Georgian buildings were five stories tall, rendered in limestone, with symmetrical windows that indicated that it was more than just a grand entrance.

Cole was slightly dazed as she followed Ellery out of the Royal Albert Hall and into the lingering warmth of the night. They wandered silently between the pale white mansions and red-brick towers of Kensington, letting the memory of the music linger. The next time Cole paid attention to her surroundings, they were on the Old Brompton Road. This area was the closest Kensington had to a commercial district, though it still exuded a posh atmosphere with its upscale flats, boutique stores selling extravagant items nobody would reasonably desire, high-end restaurants, unnecessarily large Pret A Manger branches, and, somewhere in the midst of it all, the pub where Private Eye was founded.

I took a lot of photos from my cell phone since it was impressive and I felt like I was in a candy store. The London streets were overly lit and full of beautiful people. Later, Dr. Steward recommended that it was easier to see London from the "London eyes", also known as the "Millennium Wheel"; it is a 135-meter observation wheel, located on the western end of the Jubilee Gardens. I felt like the queen of the world from above, it seemed like we were going to fall, but we were just walking around and seeing all of London from above. I saw so many things that night, but I was very hungry, I think that's not unusual for me.

Three seconds later, without lifting his head from his iPad, he says; “This is the second time I’ve caught you staring at me, Little Caramel.” “You live in Wellington Square?” I whisper, my voice dripping with shock. Wellington Square is the most exclusive of all exclusive estates in New York City. It is so exclusive that no one really knows the people who own all the gleaming skyscrapers and luxurious buildings around here. Only the richest of the rich can afford to buy a place here. I once heard the cheapest apartment costs upwards of five billion dollars as rent per two months.