Well, that prompt sent my mind in exactly one direction, so I hope you enjoy this!
So soon? Justin wanted to show me round the gardens at Westrill. I had raised an eyebrow and then my towel, as it started slipping from where I'd tied it around my waist. Justin might not be human -- he's a timeless one, and I'm pretty sure he's the same class of being as the Seraphim -- but I was trying to have modesty. And, if I'm honest, dignity. And, if I'm even more honest, self-respect, but that one was proving almost as hard to come by as self-control.
"There are gardens here?" I said. "Who tends them? The only people who are here regularly are you, that guy who looks like Freud and you call Siggi, and the Misses Hyde and Sikh. Other than that, there's me on and off, usually when one of you wants me to do something and won't explain why, and a handful of other people I'm pretty sure I've only seen once each." "You pay a lot of attention, Seraphicide," said Justin. He winked at me, and I realised I'd let my towel slip to the floor. Cursing softly under my breath I gathered it back up, tied it back around my waist so tightly I actually yelped, and then glared right back at him. "Siggi's a good guy. He's getting closer to understanding some of the strangenesses we have here. He's got rooms about a hundred years ago." "What?" "Just go bac -- oh yes, sorry. I keep forgetting you haven't learned how to use temporal directions yet. If you want a chat with Siggi just let me know and I'll make the introductions. Do you speak Austrian?" "I... let me get dressed and we'll look at the gardens," I said. "This way?" I pointed randomly, more to get Justin out of the room so I could try and find my way back to my room. Westrill, or Eastmarch, or Northbrook or Southarbour, or whatever Justin was calling the house today, seemed to change its architectural layout while I slept. And sometimes while I ate, and once while I was on the toilet. "So soon?" Justin looked amused. "Ok." Somehow, walking through that doorway took us eighteen minutes into the future and out into a walled garden and I found my towel had disappeared without me feeling anything, and I was now wearing plain black trousers, a white shirt with torn cuffs and no socks or shoes. The garden was intricately laid out; narrow paths that could, if you were careful and friendly, allow exactly two thinnish people to walk side-by-side, snaked through. They were made of a white stone I didn't recognise but it was warm underfoot. I glanced up and the sun was still low in the morning sky, so the stone must be exceptionally good at storing heat. "What just happened?" I said. "No wait, I can see we moved temporally. I'm not stupid. But why do I not have shoes or socks on? And why is my shirt torn?" Justin shrugged. "I wasn't there when you got dressed," he said. "I was making coffee." He lifted his hand and I saw a three-quarter-full coffee cup there. "Where's mine?"
"I offered you one and you said you'd had enough already and could we just get on with the walk," said Justin. I bit my lip in frustration while we walked along the path. Tulips were bedded alongside this one, purple, yellow and red flowers just starting to open. The soil around them was dark and loamy and I wondered if a footprint of a bare foot would upset the gardener. "Yes," said Justin. "Don't." "When do I get to live through the last eighteen minutes?" I said, finally. "Whenever you want," said Justin. "I mean, you already have, you just don't remember doing it yet." "Why not? I lived through it!" "Because you've jumped ahead. The you here now is the same you as the real you here in the real now, but you're occupying the same space and the old you needs time to assimilate the memories of the current you. That takes a few hours, but we're not staying that long, so you'll just have to return to those eighteen minutes and live through them, or find a later time and wait till the memories catch up with you." I pondered. "I think I actually understand that," I said slowly. "Left here." We turned left. "I'm not sure I like it, but ok. What would happen if I went forward past my death." "You'd be dead," said Justin. "Don't try that, it's a pain trying to retrieve you." He paused, his eyes distant as though remembering something. "Don't try it twice."
Greg - ah, I see why you went here so easily with this prompt.
I quite enjoyed this visit. The leap forward in time to the walk intrigues me as much as it does your narrator, I think. And the explanation of the body needing time for the memories to catch up, so to speak, makes a lot of sense.
I feel very much like I'm along for the ride with your narrator!
3 comments:
Well, that prompt sent my mind in exactly one direction, so I hope you enjoy this!
So soon?
Justin wanted to show me round the gardens at Westrill. I had raised an eyebrow and then my towel, as it started slipping from where I'd tied it around my waist. Justin might not be human -- he's a timeless one, and I'm pretty sure he's the same class of being as the Seraphim -- but I was trying to have modesty. And, if I'm honest, dignity. And, if I'm even more honest, self-respect, but that one was proving almost as hard to come by as self-control.
"There are gardens here?" I said. "Who tends them? The only people who are here regularly are you, that guy who looks like Freud and you call Siggi, and the Misses Hyde and Sikh. Other than that, there's me on and off, usually when one of you wants me to do something and won't explain why, and a handful of other people I'm pretty sure I've only seen once each."
"You pay a lot of attention, Seraphicide," said Justin. He winked at me, and I realised I'd let my towel slip to the floor. Cursing softly under my breath I gathered it back up, tied it back around my waist so tightly I actually yelped, and then glared right back at him. "Siggi's a good guy. He's getting closer to understanding some of the strangenesses we have here. He's got rooms about a hundred years ago."
"What?"
"Just go bac -- oh yes, sorry. I keep forgetting you haven't learned how to use temporal directions yet. If you want a chat with Siggi just let me know and I'll make the introductions. Do you speak Austrian?"
"I... let me get dressed and we'll look at the gardens," I said. "This way?" I pointed randomly, more to get Justin out of the room so I could try and find my way back to my room. Westrill, or Eastmarch, or Northbrook or Southarbour, or whatever Justin was calling the house today, seemed to change its architectural layout while I slept. And sometimes while I ate, and once while I was on the toilet.
"So soon?" Justin looked amused. "Ok."
Somehow, walking through that doorway took us eighteen minutes into the future and out into a walled garden and I found my towel had disappeared without me feeling anything, and I was now wearing plain black trousers, a white shirt with torn cuffs and no socks or shoes. The garden was intricately laid out; narrow paths that could, if you were careful and friendly, allow exactly two thinnish people to walk side-by-side, snaked through. They were made of a white stone I didn't recognise but it was warm underfoot. I glanced up and the sun was still low in the morning sky, so the stone must be exceptionally good at storing heat.
"What just happened?" I said. "No wait, I can see we moved temporally. I'm not stupid. But why do I not have shoes or socks on? And why is my shirt torn?"
Justin shrugged. "I wasn't there when you got dressed," he said. "I was making coffee." He lifted his hand and I saw a three-quarter-full coffee cup there.
"Where's mine?"
"I offered you one and you said you'd had enough already and could we just get on with the walk," said Justin.
I bit my lip in frustration while we walked along the path. Tulips were bedded alongside this one, purple, yellow and red flowers just starting to open. The soil around them was dark and loamy and I wondered if a footprint of a bare foot would upset the gardener.
"Yes," said Justin. "Don't."
"When do I get to live through the last eighteen minutes?" I said, finally.
"Whenever you want," said Justin. "I mean, you already have, you just don't remember doing it yet."
"Why not? I lived through it!"
"Because you've jumped ahead. The you here now is the same you as the real you here in the real now, but you're occupying the same space and the old you needs time to assimilate the memories of the current you. That takes a few hours, but we're not staying that long, so you'll just have to return to those eighteen minutes and live through them, or find a later time and wait till the memories catch up with you."
I pondered. "I think I actually understand that," I said slowly.
"Left here."
We turned left. "I'm not sure I like it, but ok. What would happen if I went forward past my death."
"You'd be dead," said Justin. "Don't try that, it's a pain trying to retrieve you." He paused, his eyes distant as though remembering something. "Don't try it twice."
Greg - ah, I see why you went here so easily with this prompt.
I quite enjoyed this visit. The leap forward in time to the walk intrigues me as much as it does your narrator, I think. And the explanation of the body needing time for the memories to catch up, so to speak, makes a lot of sense.
I feel very much like I'm along for the ride with your narrator!
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