The room looked small. In truth, as he he was about to discover for himself, the room was in fact much roomier than one could ever imagine.
Stepping into the room he found he was transported to another time, possibly even a another place. His surroundings suddenly to seem alive. Too alive. Where what appeared to be walls on the other side of the door, were now tress. Huge old trees. Trees that seemed to reach far into the sky, and seemed to go on forever. Between breaks in the upper branches he could see sunlight peeking through. The gentle breeze he felt moving the branches and leaves appeared to come from in front of him. The smell of of the trees, and grass was intoxicating. The trees began to swirl around him. The last thing he remembered was seeing a building off in the distance . For the brief second he saw it it appeared to be a castle. But he never got a good look.
When he awoke, his surroundings had changed again. He felt his head as he attempted to sit up. Slowly his eyes cleared. The dampness seemed to float in the air. As his eyes and head cleared, he could barely make out in the dim light coming through a very small barred window high on the opposite wall. As he slowly came back to his senses, the could make out the wall next to his cot. Feeling his way on the cot he found it was made of very rough hewn wood, and covered in a burlap type material, very rough to the touch. Under the cover he was laying on was straw. Very old smelly straw. The smell of bodily functions past hit him in the face as he moved around to try to get up from the cot. Finely extracting himself from the smelly straw covered cot he got on his feet. Wobbly at first as what he could see of the room seemed to spin around or several minutes. Eventually the room stopped spinning. As his head slowly came to rest in one piece, he was able to look around more carefully. The large stones in the walls indicated it was very old. The stones along the dirt floor had green moss or mold growing on them. Higher up there appeared to writing on some stones. Sort of scratched into the surface of the stone.
In the dim light he tried to make out the scratches of what appeared to be words, The language seemed from another time. He knew he'd seen that kind of writing,somewhere before. As a ancient history professor, he was familiar with ancient writings, and building. He'd made a career of studying castles and documents from all over the world. There was very little he didn't know about castles. He thought. Slowly he worked his way around the tiny room. Finally finding the door. It was small. Heavy wood. Held together with heavy rope type material. The door appeared to not have been opened in centuries. Much less in the short time he had been in the room. That didn't explain how he got here, or how he was going to get out. Leaning against the wall. he began to go over everything that had happened in his mind.
He had been called upon to examine some ancient text that had been found in a old estate in the outskirts of London. The gentleman who found them, he emailed and asked him to come and see if they were indeed real, and if they were worth anything. When he arrived at the estate he found the doors open. Inside he found a note saying that the gentleman had been called away on a emercy , leaving just before he arrived. The material for him to look at was in the study, on the desk, The note had said to make himself comfortable and take his time, that he should be back soon. The door was open to the study. Through the doorway it looked like a an ordinary english study. large desk in the center of the room. Walls covered with maps and pictures of days gone by. All of this seemed normal as he stepped into the room. The next thing he knew he was in a english forrest. And now in a dogun of sorts.
As a last resort to get out of the the tiny room; he put his effort into pushing on the door. Slowly it moved. Dust and insects coming loose, and landing all over him. inch by inch the door finally started to move. It seemed to take forever and all of his strength to get the old wooden door to move even a little. Little by little it inched open. After what seemed like several hours it was finally open enough for him to barely squeeze through. The hall on the other side was the same stone as his cell had been. The dirt floor showed signs of traffic. Footprints and marks where someone recently fall. The hall wound its way along until it came to open area with stairs leading up from where he was. As he had nowhere else to go, up the stairs he went. The stairs themselves were shallow and steep, and hard to navigate without falling especially in the almost dark pathway. One misstep and he'd be back on the bottom of the stairs, probably badly hurt.
At The top of the stairs, he found a another door. This door was much newer, and very recently had been used. Hesitating slightly he pushed it gently. It swung open easily.
There beyond the door was the study had attempted to enter earlier.
Sitting at the desk was the gentleman he had supposed to meet.
"Welcome back. I trust you enjoyed my time machine?"
The man said pleasantly, like one would ask if one enjoyed a movie or a book, or song.
He didn't know what to say.
"Uh , Time machine? What happened.?'
"I'm so sorry I wasn't able to be here when you arrived, I so wanted to show you personally. However, I was detained in another time. "
He sat down in the nearest chair waiting for a explanation.
"A drink, or something more? I can have the butler bring what you wish. You're right, I do owe you a explantation. As I said the room is a time machine. It can take one to any place or time. Only there are several problems. It has a mind of its own. Just before you arrived it took me to America in the 1960's, Dallas, to be exact. I found myself on the grassy knoll, just as President Kennedy was shot. I saw who did it, and it wasn't Oswald. Then just as suddenly I was back here in the here and now, sitting as you found me. I knew you had arrived by the car outside. So All I could do was wait until you made your way back. If I may ask where were you?"
He thought for several minutes.
"In a old english castle. a dungeon, to be exact, a wet smelly dirty dungeon. How long was I gone?"
"Its impossible to say. I still haven't figured out a way to tell, it could be a minute or a hour. Time means nothing when you there. Wherever there is. Would you like to try again together, as I had originally planned?"
"Why not? It can't be any worse than where I was before."
They got up and he lead him out of the room, They turned back around and stepped through the door again...
Stepping into the room he found he was transported to another time, possibly even a another place. His surroundings suddenly to seem alive. Too alive. Where what appeared to be walls on the other side of the door, were now tress. Huge old trees. Trees that seemed to reach far into the sky, and seemed to go on forever. Between breaks in the upper branches he could see sunlight peeking through. The gentle breeze he felt moving the branches and leaves appeared to come from in front of him. The smell of of the trees, and grass was intoxicating. The trees began to swirl around him. The last thing he remembered was seeing a building off in the distance . For the brief second he saw it it appeared to be a castle. But he never got a good look.
When he awoke, his surroundings had changed again. He felt his head as he attempted to sit up. Slowly his eyes cleared. The dampness seemed to float in the air. As his eyes and head cleared, he could barely make out in the dim light coming through a very small barred window high on the opposite wall. As he slowly came back to his senses, the could make out the wall next to his cot. Feeling his way on the cot he found it was made of very rough hewn wood, and covered in a burlap type material, very rough to the touch. Under the cover he was laying on was straw. Very old smelly straw. The smell of bodily functions past hit him in the face as he moved around to try to get up from the cot. Finely extracting himself from the smelly straw covered cot he got on his feet. Wobbly at first as what he could see of the room seemed to spin around or several minutes. Eventually the room stopped spinning. As his head slowly came to rest in one piece, he was able to look around more carefully. The large stones in the walls indicated it was very old. The stones along the dirt floor had green moss or mold growing on them. Higher up there appeared to writing on some stones. Sort of scratched into the surface of the stone.
In the dim light he tried to make out the scratches of what appeared to be words, The language seemed from another time. He knew he'd seen that kind of writing,somewhere before. As a ancient history professor, he was familiar with ancient writings, and building. He'd made a career of studying castles and documents from all over the world. There was very little he didn't know about castles. He thought. Slowly he worked his way around the tiny room. Finally finding the door. It was small. Heavy wood. Held together with heavy rope type material. The door appeared to not have been opened in centuries. Much less in the short time he had been in the room. That didn't explain how he got here, or how he was going to get out. Leaning against the wall. he began to go over everything that had happened in his mind.
He had been called upon to examine some ancient text that had been found in a old estate in the outskirts of London. The gentleman who found them, he emailed and asked him to come and see if they were indeed real, and if they were worth anything. When he arrived at the estate he found the doors open. Inside he found a note saying that the gentleman had been called away on a emercy , leaving just before he arrived. The material for him to look at was in the study, on the desk, The note had said to make himself comfortable and take his time, that he should be back soon. The door was open to the study. Through the doorway it looked like a an ordinary english study. large desk in the center of the room. Walls covered with maps and pictures of days gone by. All of this seemed normal as he stepped into the room. The next thing he knew he was in a english forrest. And now in a dogun of sorts.
As a last resort to get out of the the tiny room; he put his effort into pushing on the door. Slowly it moved. Dust and insects coming loose, and landing all over him. inch by inch the door finally started to move. It seemed to take forever and all of his strength to get the old wooden door to move even a little. Little by little it inched open. After what seemed like several hours it was finally open enough for him to barely squeeze through. The hall on the other side was the same stone as his cell had been. The dirt floor showed signs of traffic. Footprints and marks where someone recently fall. The hall wound its way along until it came to open area with stairs leading up from where he was. As he had nowhere else to go, up the stairs he went. The stairs themselves were shallow and steep, and hard to navigate without falling especially in the almost dark pathway. One misstep and he'd be back on the bottom of the stairs, probably badly hurt.
At The top of the stairs, he found a another door. This door was much newer, and very recently had been used. Hesitating slightly he pushed it gently. It swung open easily.
There beyond the door was the study had attempted to enter earlier.
Sitting at the desk was the gentleman he had supposed to meet.
"Welcome back. I trust you enjoyed my time machine?"
The man said pleasantly, like one would ask if one enjoyed a movie or a book, or song.
He didn't know what to say.
"Uh , Time machine? What happened.?'
"I'm so sorry I wasn't able to be here when you arrived, I so wanted to show you personally. However, I was detained in another time. "
He sat down in the nearest chair waiting for a explanation.
"A drink, or something more? I can have the butler bring what you wish. You're right, I do owe you a explantation. As I said the room is a time machine. It can take one to any place or time. Only there are several problems. It has a mind of its own. Just before you arrived it took me to America in the 1960's, Dallas, to be exact. I found myself on the grassy knoll, just as President Kennedy was shot. I saw who did it, and it wasn't Oswald. Then just as suddenly I was back here in the here and now, sitting as you found me. I knew you had arrived by the car outside. So All I could do was wait until you made your way back. If I may ask where were you?"
He thought for several minutes.
"In a old english castle. a dungeon, to be exact, a wet smelly dirty dungeon. How long was I gone?"
"Its impossible to say. I still haven't figured out a way to tell, it could be a minute or a hour. Time means nothing when you there. Wherever there is. Would you like to try again together, as I had originally planned?"
"Why not? It can't be any worse than where I was before."
They got up and he lead him out of the room, They turned back around and stepped through the door again...
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