I have a very dear friend who shares my passion for bygone times and who is as titillated as I am by the notion of being able to time travel to experience history first hand. Given that neither of us is an absolute idiot we know that a) it probably isn’t about to happen, no …
The Inca “It is time.” The half-naked man sitting on the floor nods and gets to his feet. Months of imprisonment have given him a paunch, and the once so slim and erect body is slightly hunched. No wonder… I don’t say anything as I help him dress. His hands are trembling and there’s a …
A face to remember She’s so vain it is almost amusing. Almost, mind you. At every reflecting surface she smiles, studying her mirrored image with such apparent pleasure it makes me roll my eyes. “Breeding,” she comments at one point, giving me an oblique look that very clearly conveys I am at best a mongrel …
Courage jusqu’a la mort. He is standing by the window, looking down at the crowds below. A floorboard below my feet squeaks and he whirls, hand dropping to where he would normally have his sword. “Who are you?” he says, looking rather taken aback. “A friend,” I say. He swivels back to look at the …
Aboard the Santa Maria, October 1492 He isn’t the sexiest of men. In fact, he’s too short, has prematurely grey hair and stinks to high heaven. Well; they all do, the whole ship is a miasma of body odours strong enough to fell an ox should one have the temerity to venture below deck. I …
And so we meet at last … As a young girl I had a crush on him. Kind of silly, given that he’d been floating dust in the wind for like two thousand years by then. Still, it’s with a dry mouth and sweaty palms that i hurry through a dusty, hot Pelas in the general …
Imagine… Through a combination of rare events, the ground opened below your feet and propelled you backwards in time. With a thud you land on a wooden floor. “Ah! En fin. I’ve been waiting for ages.” Towards you waddles an impressive woman, as broad as she is tall, and her face is wreathed in a …
In a cold and dark place It’s damp. The stone wall under my hand is slippery – and icy. I can’t see, at least not to begin with, but from somewhere to my right comes the sound of something rustling through straw. A rat? No, not a rat, the sound is too loud for that. …
At death’s door “You’re dying,” I tell him. “You don’t exist,” he counters. “A mere flight of fancy, for all that you seem solid enough.” I take his hands and squeeze until he gasps. Not much of a challenge, as his hand is a wasted thing, the bones standing in stark outline against his pasty, …
Tea with Catherine I find her in a secluded corner of the sprawling palace gardens, surrounded by her normal retinue of a couple of ladies-in-waiting, two small dogs and a man whose purpose I can’t quite grasp at first. The man is by far the flashiest of the party, with so much lace and ribbons …
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