Boy, do I have a treat for you this weekend!
My lovely and talented friend A.M. Supinger of Inner Owlet has a new series on her blog called FUSION, where she writes short stories for her followers based on what THEY want their story to be about. How awesome is that?!? I was lucky to be her first Fusion participant. When A.M. asked me for a prompt, I gave her the vague answer of “someone coming from a foreign land”. And, being the awesome writer she is, this is the story she made for me.
Story and Artwork copyrighted by A.M. Supinger
(Used with permission)
Cherie stared around her grandfather’s home. The dark wood and musty chandeliers created a formal atmosphere that was familiar and comforting.
“Do not touch any of the clocks in this house, Cherie. You know that they are my domain…anyone else, even family, that touches them are forfeit to their power. I wouldn’t know you were in trouble until it was too late.”
“Alright, then.” His long mustache and matching beard twitched as he smiled. “I’m glad you’re here for a visit. If you go check your room, you’ll find a special present waiting for you.”
“Thank you!” Cherie bounced into his arms for a hug and then turned and raced away. The narrow passageways leading through her grandfather’s castle were familiar, and she skipped up steps and past creaking suits of armor with no fear. But her feet skidded to a halt just outside the bedroom always reserved for her.
A new clock hung next to her door, but it didn’t look like any of the other time pieces cluttering the rest of the house. It was oval and imperfect, bulging and curving over large gemstones set deep into the golden frame. The clock’s face was lost amidst hundreds of zigzagging swirls and clock-hands.
Cherie leaned forward and stared at the unique design. Who would make such a ridiculous contraption? It made no sense. She reached a finger forward and poked the golden frame.
Screaming did her no good. She’d touched the clock! How could she have been so stupid? Pain warped her thoughts as her body twisted and writhed. The space between her Grandfather’s house and the clock’s dimension was vast and dark and horrible. She screamed endlessly.
Father had once explained that time was tied to dimensions, and that no two dimensions ever had exactly the same time. Time was literally endless that way. By touching a clock she had been sucked into its dimension…just as Grandfather had warned her she would be.
Light exploded around her as she materialized. The darkness retreated and Cherie stared up from the ground at a blue sky. Blue. Why was the sky blue? Her body screamed in continuing pain while her mind whirled with realization.
She’d never see her parents or her grandfather again. She’d never go home.
Standing took some effort. She hoisted herself upwards and reeled at how heavy her body felt. Brown sticks shot upward all around her and green frills at the top of each brushed the blue sky. How odd. Her clothes were the same as when she’d arrived at Grandfather’s castle – pink, yellow, red, orange and blue all competing for attention – but each thread seemed muted. Her skin wasn’t a vibrant yellow anymore, either. She looked sickly…more golden than anything.
Disgust and fear clenched her stomach.
Voices called out to her left, and Cherie turned just in time to see three men emerge from between the tall brown sticks. They all stopped and stared at her.
“Uh…are you lost?”
Cherie heard the words, the strange syllables clinging to and then sliding past the man’s lips, and was surprised that she could understand him. She nodded, unsure if she could speak the odd language.
“How on Earth did you get here? You’re three miles outside of town.”
Cherie gulped. Earth…? Grandfather had often told stories about the many dimensions of Earth. It was a strange and scary place in his tales.
“I guess it doesn’t matter. We’ll walk you back. I’m a Ranger Dave,” he pointed to a badge on his plain brown shirt, “and these two are both trainees.” The man pointed to the two men flanking him. Dave’s gaze curiously traveled down her gown. “What the heck are you wearing?”
Cherie looked down. “A dress.”
“I can see that.” Dave’s voice was low and playful, like he was teasing her. “What’s your name, darlin’?”
“Well, Cherie, it looks like you have a lot to learn about hiking.”
“More than you know, Ranger Dave. More than you know.”
If you want to be immortalized in a story, head on over to Inner Owlet and follow this amazing gal, whose brilliant, creative mind never ceases to amaze me. 😉
Thanks, A.M.! ❤