#TimeTravelingGhost Part 43: EP 4: 1937 Amelia Earhart. 3 of 3

#Wss366 #TimeTravelAuthors 9/21. How sincere are your characters?

I finished the song as we rounded a shallow point. Emily took my hand, and we stopped to look out over the water. The night was peaceful. The surf, the scuttling of crabs, and the wind in the nearby brush sang a mournful refrain to the lyrics: “When will they ever learn?”

“That’s a sad song. I’ve never heard it before,” Emily said and sang a snatch, “‘Covered with flowers every one.’” Then she added, “Flanders Fields goes, ‘Loved and were loved, and now we lie, in Flanders fields.’ I hate the rest of the poem.”

A fish splashed out in the water.

Emily continued. “I used to believe that at least they were at peace. The guns were silent, and treaties were inked. I thought, ‘We’re done with war, and they can rest.’ But here we are, ghosts. You’re from the future, singing another sad song about the needless dying. The guns don’t stay silent long, do they?”

“No, they don’t,” I said. “Nor the sound of jackboots. ‘Gotta get down to it. Soldiers are gunning us down.’ That’s from another song—the rabbits scare me.” [Note 3]

Note 3: Ohio - Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young

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#TimeTravelingGhost Part 45: EP 4: 1937 Amelia Earhart 1 of 2

#Wss366 #MastoPrompt #TimeTravelAuthors 9/23 Anger in your story

Emily was facing me now. Her eyes shone under the newly risen tropical moon. For the first time, I noticed the slight Asian cast to them, which made sense given her last name, Pang. A #mist had drifted in from the sea, casting a romantic halo around her face. “She isn’t bad-looking,” I thought, “if only there were fewer sharp edges to her personality.”

“Those lyrics sound angry,” Emily said. “But I think I understand. Like when we opened fire on the veterans in the Hoovervilles.” [Note 1]

“Yeah, it was like that. The National Guard shot students protesting a war. I have a question for you. Don’t answer if it’s none of my business, but as someone in military intelligence who’s also anti-communist, I wouldn’t expect you to be anti-militaristic.”

“That wasn’t a question,” she #pronounced, “but I’ll answer the one you meant to ask. Have you seen innocent people get shot? Or what an artillery shell can do to someone? I have.”

“Oh,” I said.

[Note 1] Hoovervilles

Continued in next post

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#TimeTravelingGhost Part 45: EP 4: 1937 Amelia Earhart 2 of 2

#Wss366 #MastoPrompt #TimeTravelAuthors 9/23 Anger in your story

“I suppose it’s time I told you a little about myself. I’m told I take after my grandmother, a strong-willed woman. She was Chinese and met a dashing American officer. They later married. As you’d imagine, that caused quite a scandal. Not that anyone in the family talks about it.”

“I avoided marriage by becoming a stringer for the Arkham Daily Star. I think Grandma would have approved. My family didn’t.”

“It sounds like you admire her. Did you ever meet her?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I wish I had.”

Emily picked up a shell and tossed it into the water. “Anyway, about me. In 1927, I was in Shanghai when Chiang Kai-shek purged the Communists. It was the right time and place for me, though not for the thousands who were slaughtered. The streets literally ran red. I survived and sent dispatches home. That’s when the service recruited me.”

Her voice grew quieter. “I also witnessed what happened to the Bonus Army when we fired on our own veterans. I’ve seen it all and have no love for it.” [Note 2] [Note 3]

She finished simply: “I love my country, but not war and violence.”

“Thank you,” I said, starting down the beach again. I wondered how we matched up. She was a tough lady. From what I could tell, I’d been a professor who enjoyed food, alcohol, and esoteric studies. The image I had of myself was a soft spinster type. She wanted to save the universe, and I just wanted to gadfly around.

I wasn’t one for self-flagellation, so I set those thoughts aside. “Let’s look for Amelia,” I said.

“I agree.” If I read Emily’s tone correctly, she was glad to leave the subject behind.

[Note 2] The Bonus Army
[Note 3] Shanghai Massacre (1927)

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#TimeTravelingGhost Part 46: EP 4: 1937 Amelia Earhart.

#Wss366 #MastoPrompt #TimeTravelAuthors 9/27 Saturday excerpt (optional word: pleasant)

The ocean mist that was drifting in was #pleasant after the night's muggy warmth. The beach had been fairly straight until this point, but with the limited visibility, we almost fell into what I guessed was an inlet to a lagoon. Soggy, burnt wood was mixed with the sand, and its faint odor perfumed the air. We still hadn’t seen Amelia, and I was more convinced than ever that I knew where we were. It was the #worst option, the one place I’d prayed we wouldn’t find ourselves.

“I think I hear something,” Emily said, pointing inland.

When I listened, I thought I heard crying, but it could have been the wind. “That way is as good as any,” I said.

The sound faded as we walked along the beach. No matter how hard I listened, all I could hear was the wind, the surf, and the scuttling of crabs, some of which were as big as a cat or small dog.

The memory of a pretty papillon named "Rindy" floated up into my consciousness, and I wondered if he had been mine.

“There it is again,” Emily said.

This time, I could plainly hear a woman weeping. The sound came from in front of us, off to the right.

“Amelia, Amelia Earhart!” I yelled, and the weeping stopped.

“There’s a path,” Emily said, pointing to a rough trail leading inland through the trees.

“I’m here! Thank God at last,” came a shout from the direction the path led.

We followed the voice and soon found a clearing. In the center were the ashes of a fire, scattered coconut, and crab shells. The scent of the jungle and sea mingled with the sour-sweet stench of death. On the far side of the fire lay a rotting corpse. Crabs that had nearly picked the skeleton clean scurried away from our light. The word “#gross” almost escaped my lips.

Just beyond stood a woman dressed in aviator clothes. We had found Amelia Earhart.

Note 4: Amelia Earhart

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#TimeTravelingGhost Part 47: EP 4: 1937 Amelia Earhart.

#Wss366 #TimeTravelAuthors 9/29. Author's choice/promo

“At last! I thought no one would find us,” Amelia said. “Fred went to find water; we have none. He’s been gone a long time.” She waved toward a row of coconut shells on the clearing's edge. Her rambling speech gave no hint of what our eyes could plainly see: a rotting skeleton and the jungle visible through the aviator’s translucent body.

I whispered to Emily so that the apparition couldn’t hear. “In 1937, Amelia Earhart and her navigator, Fred Noonan, disappeared while crossing the Pacific. I don’t think she knows she’s dead. We need to break it to her slowly.”

“I didn’t hear a plane,” Amelia resumed. “Did you come from Howland Island? We missed it. Thank goodness we spotted Gardner.” [Note 5]

Note 5 Gardner/Nikumaroro
[Note 6] It is a #cardinal sin to omit the prompt word, so I cheated.
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#TimeTravelingGhost Part 47: EP 4: 1937 Amelia Earhart.

#Wss366 #MastoPrompt #TimeTravelAuthors 10/5. Why are you important to the story?

As we stood there, trying to figure out what to say, the moon topped the surrounding trees. The apparition became even fainter.

“I need to tend the signal fire,” she said, gliding by us. It felt like a chill wind, and in the warm tropical night, it raised goosebumps on my skin. Inland, a bird #piped, eerie and forlorn.

“I suppose we should follow her,” I said, starting back down the track. “You’re lucky you weren’t caught in an obsessive loop like her.”

“Explain?”

“Classical ghost stories feature spirits caught in a loop created by unfulfilled desires, grudges, or death trauma. They’re doomed to repeat the same actions over and over.”

She nodded. “I might have been, except you came along. We wouldn’t be traveling through time except for you.”

She paused, thinking, then spoke. “Neither of us is a typical ghost, especially you. Are you sure you’re even a ghost?”

“It’s the only term I can come up with.”

The mist was thicker when we emerged from the jungle. White tendrils passed over the moon, causing an unsettling flicker. The clicking of crabs communicating had ceased in the direction the ghostly form had gone. Behind us, the sound resumed.

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#TimeTravelingGhost Part 47: EP 4: 1937 Amelia Earhart.

#Wss366 #MastoPrompt #TimeTravelAuthors 10/7. Something odd/weird you've experienced

We didn’t have to walk far before Amelia came into view again. She stood where the inlet met the sea. Creamy currents ran past her as the lagoon emptied. A signal fire danced in front of her. Its ghostly blue flames #curled and flickered. The exposed white coral behind her blended into her ethereal form. She appeared to be the spirit of the island itself: white coral edging a deep indigo ocean. It wasn’t the weirdest thing I had ever seen, but it was close.

Emily grabbed my arm, and we stopped. Turning to face her, I waited for her to speak.

“How are we going to convince her she’s a ghost?”

“I don’t know yet.”

She nodded. “We might not be able to do things like stop the Great War, but we can do little things, like freeing her.”

“We can do that, but there might be more we can do. Next, let’s find out more about the rabbits. I think they’re up to no good.”

She nodded in agreement.

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#TimeTravelingGhost Part 48: EP 4: 1937 Amelia Earhart.

#Wss366 #MastoPrompt #TimeTravelAuthors 10/11. Saturday excerpt (optional word: most) #Occultober 10. #Nephelomancy #SundayLit Colour

We approached Amelia and the signal fire. Its #blue flames gave off no heat, chilling us instead.

Stopping a few feet from Ms. Earhart. My prepared speech froze in my throat when she spoke.

“See the clouds?” She asked, staring at the sky that rimmed the ocean. “I’ve always loved flying in their midst and wondered what they said. I imagined them whispering their #most guarded secrets: ‘Life is short; soar.’ If there’s a God, surely he must speak through them.”

She raised a ghostly hand and pointed to the mist moving across the moon. “Tonight, they say, there will be an end.”

Her hand dropped, and she turned toward us. “You came to rescue me?”

“No. Just to visit.” I said. The comment was deliberately cryptic. I wanted to draw her in slowly.

“Then I’ll have to wait for a ship,” she said.

Emily spoke next. “There won’t be a ship. Nobody comes for you.”

“Then they’ve given up? Forgotten?” Amelia’s voice was thin. The last word was edged with despair.

“A hundred years from now, they’ll still be searching. You’ll still be inspiring women to be bold. That’s your legacy,” I said.

“Legacy,” her voice now laced with pride.

“Noonan?” she asked.

“He’s dead, too,” I said.

“So this is the end they foretold.” Her hand swept, taking in the sky. “Not a rescue, but death.”

“It’s time to soar. The clouds want to share their secrets with you.” Unlike her usual pragmatic tone, Emily’s voice held deep compassion. It touched me.

“You no longer need wings.” Emily continued. “Let go of the earth and take flight.”

A smile touched Amelia’s face for the first time. “Thank you. I didn’t realize. But I’ll be back. I want to be the first woman in space.”

With that, she faded. #God rays streamed from the moon, illuminating her. Then they were gone, and with them, Amelia Earhart vanished.

All that remained were the #marble-like embers of her fire. #Moon-bright #pellets that winked at us.

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#TimeTravelingGhost Part 49: EP 4: 1937 Amelia Earhart.

#Wss366 #TimeTravelAuthors 10/13. What does someone else in the story think of you? #SundayLit color

The spheres were round robin egg-sized #opals or #moonstones, with smoky #blue fire in their depths and pleasantly cool to the touch.

“Those could be dangerous,” Emily said. “I would hate for something bad to happen to you. I’ve never been much use for intellectuals, but I like you.”

“Thanks.” Then, in a faltering voice, I said, “I like you too. I’m glad we met.”

Holding out my hand, I continued, “You should take two of these.”

I was met with a questioning look, so I added, “It doesn’t make sense, but nothing that’s happened to me recently does. I just have a feeling that these were meant for us.”

Her fingers briefly touched mine as she took the spheres. Her fingertips were warm. Surprising for a ghost. That was another strange thing. But I was glad.

“Shall we find out about our ‘friends,’ the rabbits?'” I said, my hand still outstretched.

It tingled faintly in my grasp—a comforting feeling.

The foggy tropical night faded, replaced by a lush #emerald-#green light streaming down like sunlight #filtered through a stained-glass window, so brilliant that I was temporarily blinded.

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#TimeTravelingGhost Part 50: EP 5: Jurassic Era — Rabbits

#Wss366 #MastoPrompt #TimeTravelAuthors 10/15. Wed POST-SIZED snippet (optional word: give/gave)

Until my eyes adjusted to the emerald light, I thought we were still on Gardner Island. I could hear the surf, now sluggish, and the air was warm and humid.

My first hint that we had truly moved in time was the smell. The air still reeked of decay but now carried a resinous tang and the heavy musk of mud. Insect buzzing and a cicada-like chorus replaced the clicking of crabs.

As my eyes adjusted, the first thing I saw was a slow-moving stream edged with cattails as tall as me. It’s muddy water mixed with the turquoise ocean, lying in front of me. Turning around, I saw we were standing under tall conifers mixed with tree ferns. Their broad fronds filtered the light, casting a lush stained-glass pattern on the thick blanket of ferns and moss beneath them.

Emily gasped and pointed upward. Through a gap in the fern fronds, I saw small pterodactyls swooping down over the ocean like swallows.

“Jurassic Park,” I said.

She #gave me an odd look. “Park?”

The joke had gone right over her head. “It was a film,” I explained.

“The Lost World, Conan Doyle,” she said, matching my tone. I had the advantage, though. I’d heard of that.

“Journey to the Center of the Earth, Jules Verne,” I said. She would know that one.

“But we’re outside.” Emily’s comment #stemmed the flow of titles.

“Touché,” I said and watched her smile grow broader.

“Don’t move; there’s a damson fly on your back,” Emily said, stepping toward me. She slowly reached out to catch it, only for her hand to close on nothing. Her smile faded. “I forgot I’m a ghost. It’s still there. It’s huge and has lovely gold eyes and translucent blue wings. I wanted to show it to you.”

“I smiled and let her mispronunciation of damselfly pass. It was cute, given her normally proper speech.

Jurassic Era

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#TimeTravelingGhost Part 51: EP 5: Jurassic Era — Rabbits

#Wss366 #MastoPrompt #TimeTravelAuthors 10/23. Tell us about your enemies

“We should look for a hill and see if we can find a clue about where to go,” I said. Wandering aimlessly through the jungle behind us or walking along the beach, exposed to predators, didn’t appeal to me. Scenes from “Jurassic Park” played in my mind, like being chased by a T-Rex or some of smaller carnivores whose names I couldn’t recall.

It was quieter than in the movies, though. The only things I heard were the surf, the buzz of huge dragonflies, and swarms of gnats from the river. As for larger animals, all I’d seen were pterodactyls about the size of eagles and a glimpse of brontosaurus-like herbivores grazing in the waters of the river’s silty delta.

“I have a better idea,” Emily said. “I’ll fly up high and look around. You can look down here for clues, but watch out. I saw a small lizard over there.” She pointed to a thicket of short palm-like plants. Their stiff, waxy, blue-green fronds glistened faintly in the humid air and provided an excellent hiding place for whatever she’d seen.

While Emily scouted above, I gingerly poked at the undergrowth with a branch I picked up. When the #weedy growth proved resistant to my efforts, I persisted, using my hands when necessary.

Emily was descending when I found something interesting covered in moss, which I tore away. The first thing I noticed were bugs that looked similar to ones I was familiar with. However, I soon lost interest in them, pausing uneasily.

The gigantic half-buried vertebra that had first caught my attention paled in significance next to the carved chunk of obsidian lying just beyond it. Rust-red streaks mottled the stone, which bore the carving of a toadish face with bulging eyes, drooping lids, and flabby lips pulled back to reveal small, sharp teeth. Its neckless head merged into a body only hinted at.

First fascist rabbits and now this!

#Aghast, I stood pointing as Emily landed.

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#TimeTravelingGhost Part 52: EP 5: Jurassic Era — Rabbits

#Wss366 #MastoPrompt #TimeTravelAuthors 10/25. Saturday excerpt (Word: back)

“That shouldn’t be here,” Emily said, staring at the carving I had discovered.

“I couldn’t agree more,” I said. “But there it is.”

“Humans haven’t evolved yet.”

“There are sentient rabbits and who knows what else that science hasn’t revealed.”

She shivered and nodded. “The rock is foreign too. I didn’t see any volcanic activity.”

“Is that what you think is unnatural here?” I moved to toe the carving, but thought better of it. “It’s positively Lovecraftian!”

Emily looked blank, so I amended my statement to: “Nightmarish and occult, hinting at secrets and things that are better left unknown.”

“Sounds like the Nazis. And on a different subject, there is a ridge with limestone caves that way.” She pointed to the jungle. “There are some rough trails we can use, but be careful; there are big dinosaurs on them.”

I superstitiously covered the cursed stone #back up. I felt it would cause less harm that way.

She pointed at the stream. “Follow that for a hundred feet and you'll find a trail, oh, ‘Girl of the #Limberlost.’ I’ll fly overhead and warn you of any major dangers. Take care and keep your eyes peeled, or you’ll be in the soup.”

For a second, I thought she meant I’d fall into the murky river. I smiled as I deciphered it. It was my turn to be blindsided by period slang. The reference to “The Girl of the Limberlost” especially threw me. But, as a #Johnny-come-lately, shouldn’t I have had an advantage here?

"Roger that," I replied. That was from the '40s, wasn’t it?

“That’s solid. Let’s get this show on the road,” she responded, beginning to drift up.

Note 1: Girl of the Limberlost:
Note 2: Free to read at:

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#TimeTravelingGhost Part 53: EP 5: Jurassic Era — Rabbits

#Wss366 #MastoPrompt #TimeTravelAuthors 11/29
#ScribesAndMakers 11.29 — Cantankerous?

It was interesting how my view of Emily had changed. At first, I had found her humorless and grouchy, almost #cantankerous. She was definitely serious, but she had a humorous side and was perfectly capable of engaging in verbal sparring.

She was a bit sadistic too. I could tell by the way her lips turned up in a smile as I pushed my way through the thick forest growth, and by her uproarious laughter when a #pillbox-shaped bug as big as my fist caused me to shriek in surprise.

We eventually reached the “trail,” a muddy, trampled swath of land that ambled through the forest. Fallen trees littered the path, and huge footprints lurked in the dense ferns, threatening to break the legs of the unwary. The expedition clothes I had manifested soon turned into leather chaps and a jacket. Despite the heat, it was better than being #rent by the long dagger-like thorns that hid amid the foliage.

My attempts to transform my clothes into futuristic lightweight armor were a flop. There were clearly limits to my power. As an experiment, I tried to manifest money and then a gun. Again, the experiments failed. I had better luck with manifesting a machete.

My woes weren't limited to the heat and flora. Clouds of gnats followed me. A safari hat with mosquito netting helped, but hindered my movement through the brush. The machete and short stints of immateriality were helpful, but tiring. Indiana Jones, I wasn’t.

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#TimeTravelingGhost Part 54: EP 5: Jurassic Era — Rabbits

#Wss366 #MastoPrompt #TimeTravelAuthors 12/3

I was about to test whether an elephant gun would manifest, as it was a more appropriate weapon for the Jurassic era, when Emily shouted, “Off the trail! We have company!”

The edge of the path was about thirty meters away, with a tangle of crushed fern-trees and cattails blocking my way. The ground shook. At first, I frantically tried to scramble toward the edge, pulling at the ferns and clambering over logs. Ferns slapped my face leaving it stinging, and thorns tore at my clothes.

“Ahrrr.” My knee buckled as my leg plunged into a footprint the size of a drainage pipe and as deep as a #post-hole.

I tried to pull my leg out, mud dragging at it. I pulled harder, and my foot pulled out of my boot. Pain shot up my leg. It felt like my knee had become dislocated. Brown streaks and stars blurred my vision.

“I was a ghost,” I thought. “This shouldn't be happening.”

But it was.

I had to do something. Not only was the ground shaking, but I could also hear crashing trees and thunderous footsteps, like a stampede of elephants.

Time was running out.

“Breathe, breathe,” I whispered to myself. “Calm down. You can #cope. Breath. Fade away.”

The pain ebbed, and I floated up and then through the wreckage blocking my way until I was deep inside the forest. Once there, I materialized and collapsed. At least I hadn’t passed out as I did at the aerodrome.

My relief was brief. Overhead, the trees thrashed as if in a hurricane, and beneath me, the ground rolled in waves. The air was full of the sound of splintering timber. Deep booming grunts, like those of a giant hippo, drowned my scream as the head of a brontosaurus-like creature appeared. Vegetation dangled from its mouth like insane Christmas #decorations.

My instincts kicked in, and I tried to scramble deeper into the brush, but I couldn't move. I couldn’t feel my legs and when I tried to lift my arms, my hands only flopped. All I could do was close my eyes and pray.

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#TimeTravelingGhost Part 55: EP 5: Jurassic Era — Rabbits

#Wss366 #MastoPrompt #TimeTravelAuthors 12/9

The rumbling of the behemoths diminished and then vanished. I opened my eyes. Emily was seated nearby on a mossy log with her mouth set in a concerned line.

“You okay?” she asked, biting her lip.

I felt heavy, and my legs were numb, but I could sit up. “Yeah, but I need to rest. I panicked a bit there.”

A smile touched her lips, easing the pinched look on her face. “I’ll say. Anyone would with those things coming at them.”

“How much more of this is there?”

“The good news is we can cut over to the ridge about a quarter mile out. The bad news is the slope’s wide open, so we’ll be plain as day. And believe me, there are some mean customers out there. Those boys weren’t stampeding for the sheer fun of it.”

My smile felt stiff. I could picture “mean customers” with lots of sharp teeth.

“Buck up; it’s the toll for being able to enjoy food and drink. Besides, you’re pretty spry. You have turning ectoplasmic down pat. If you didn’t—Ghost flapjacks.”

I laughed, “Ghost flapjacks,” that was a wonderful turn of phrase.

“Well, we’d better get moving. It looks like the no-man’s-land after the Jerries gave it a good shellacking.”

I groaned and got up, but was pleased to find my knee was better. There were lots of advantages of being a ghost.

My pleasure didn’t last long. As Emily had indicated, the trail became a quagmire of churned mud, torn vegetation, and a #soapy froth. It was a hellacious quarter mile.

Despite the “doughboy” slog to the ridge, there was only one incident. We had reached an open conifer forest running at the foot of the ridge when a stegosaurus burst from behind a grove of trees where it had hidden.

Fortunately, it wasn’t a carnivore. The only damage I sustained was a near heart attack when the immense beast lumbered past. It was almost comical, with its plates rattling, the thud of feet, and its tail striking against trees. There was a #chipped plate midway down its back. It was only funny because I was far enough away for the tail to pose no threat.

A minute later, Emily landed and apologized for not spotting it.

Note 1: Stegosaurus

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#TimeTravelingGhost Part 56: EP 5: Jurassic Era — Rabbits

**#TimeTravelAuthors #Wss366 #Mastoprompt 12/13

As the gentle #fluid #folds of the conifer forested hills ended, the ridge rose steeply in front of us. Although climbing it would be difficult, the incline was a good thing. I doubted the big dinosaurs could climb it. Still, I needed to watch out for smaller ones. Airborne reptiles didn't seem like a problem. The only ones we had seen were small pterodactyls. The largest had a wingspan of about one meter and was no more threatening than a fish eagle.

I zigzagged up the grueling slope, stopping frequently to catch my breath and to ask Emily, "How #far?" until she snapped, "How old are you? Three?"

Pterodactyls/Pterodactylus

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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 5 Part 57: Jurassic Era

#TimeTravelAuthors 12/31

Eventually, the cliffs Emily had mentioned loomed overhead. White streaks marred their limestone faces. And the smell!

The closer we got, the stronger the reek of ammonia became. Overhead, pterodactyls became more numerous. A few even buzzed us, checking us out. They varied in size, but none were large enough to pose a threat. When the base of the cliffs came into view, the source of the smell became obvious: heaps of pterodactyl guano. Insects swarmed, feasting on it. Dragonflies with wingspans like small birds, all wings—shimmering flashes of blue and green—in turn, feasted on them.

Then there were the caves. Some high-up, where pterodactyls launched themselves into the air. Others at ground level. It was these caves that we were aiming for.

Odonata (Dragonfly):

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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 5 Part 58: Jurassic Era

1/3/26 #TimeTravelAuthors Deal #Wss366

We approached the caves cautiously. The thrum of the dragonflies added to the sinister feeling. Inside, anarchistic cave-#drawings showed monstrosities with many tentacled faces fighting toadish creatures. Further down, the octopi beings were shown being roasted alive over huge fires. Underfoot, seashells, small bones, and scurrying beetles crunched.

A breeze blew from the far end of the cave, dispersing the stench we had smelled climbing the ridge. The open sky at the far end beckoned, offering relief from the ominous atmosphere of the cave.

Our relief was short-lived. Below, we could see a narrow strip of jungle stretching along an aquamarine sea. Islands dotted the water. Each of the four largest islands had a pyramid on it. Three white pyramids formed a triangle, with a towering, coral-pink pyramid rising in the center. An enormous eye, carved at the pinnacle of the fourth pyramid, peered over the others.

“What’s the #deal? The Eye of Providence? Freemasons? Here?” Emily questioned.

“I think you mean the Illuminati. That’s their symbol,” Bijou corrected her.

“Illuminati? Perhaps. Until recently, I would have thought you were a bit of a mug if you’d said that, but now, seeing it… it gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

Eye of Providence:

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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 5 Part 59: Jurassic Era

#TimeTravelAuthors 1/7/26 Name #Wss366 Dash

Bijou continued to look at the pyramids. “I wonder if Tolkien had visions of that?”

At Emily’s questioning look, she said, “He’s a famous writer from the 1950s. His villain, Sauron, was depicted as a giant eye that peered out over the world from his tower. ‘One ring to rule them all and in the darkness to bind them.’”

“That sounds grim.”

“I suppose it’s better than Lovecraft and beings that Should Not Be #Named.”

“I don’t suppose either of those offers any clues on what we might face?” Emily asked.

“Let’s hope not. They’re both way out of our league.”

“#Dash it! I was hoping for some help here.”

“I think Nazi Rabbits are more our speed. Let’s not wish for eldritch gods.”

“Well then, here is to Nazi Rabbits.”

Bijou finished the cheer: “And the Illuminati.”

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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 5 Part 60: Jurassic Era

1/15/26 #TimeTravelAuthors The cost of time travel #Wss366 pyramid #MastoPrompt aromatic

I kicked the detritus near the edge of the cave, then sat down with my legs dangling over the edge. An #aromatic breeze, reminiscent of ferns and conifers, rose from below, masking the odor of guano.

"If we want to learn what the rabbits are up to, we're going to have to go out there," I said, pointing to the surreal #pyramids.

“Can you fly that far? You'd be easy pickings out there on the water.”

“Yeah, I can’t see myself building a raft and paddling across open water. I don’t suppose we could just time-travel over there? We don’t seem limited spacially when doing it. And it doesn’t seem as taxing as dematerialisation.”

“All we can do is try.”

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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 5 Part 61: Jurassic Era

1/17/26 #TimeTravelAuthors #work #Wss366 #work

“First, though, we should watch from here for a few days. Whether it #works or not, having more information could be useful.

“I agree,” Emily said. “How shall we spend our time?”

I manifested a deck of cards. “How about pinochle or gin rummy?”

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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 5 Part 62: Jurassic Era

1/19/26 #TimeTravelAuthors A character's goal #Wss366 #coke (implied)

The two of us spent the next couple of days playing cards and observing the pyramids. We learned more about the former than the latter. I taught Emily pinochle, and she taught me bezique. She liked that pinochle was more intense; I liked that bezique took its time. We had plenty of it to kill. Now and then we mixed up the terminology, which led to some friendly squabbling.

More importantly, we learned creatures avoided the pyramids. This wasn't immediately apparent, as flying creatures took flight from the pyramid closest to us. That was until one flew near us.

“An ornithopter,” I exclaimed as a pterodactyl-like machine flew by.

“A what?”

“An airplane that flies by flapping its wings.”

Emily shook her head. “At least it’s not trying to kill us. Still, no sane pilot would trust that.”

“Sane or not, we had better try our experiment before one of those spots us.”

“Agreed. We’d be in a jam if they knew we were here.”

We joined hands and repeated together: “We want to be on the central island five minutes after the big ornithopter took off.”

The cave faded, and we stood with the central pyramid in front of us, a towering mass of coral.

Emily touched it and asked, “Do you think it grew here?”

“I don’t know. I’d believe anything at this point.”

“Holy moley! Wait, I think there’s writing over there.”

We walked down a beach of pink sand, prehistoric shells, and fine, black ash until we faced the words carved into the pyramid:

          OCULUS APERTUS ERAT
          ANTEQUAM REGES ESSENT

          We guided the fire.
          We guided the crown.
          We shall guide the end.

“Masons/Illuminati,” we said at the same time.

What followed was a laugh, a strained echo of our squabbling over cards.

The laughter trailed off as we looked at each other.

“Nazis, Illuminati, eldritch horrors—why do we have to be the chosen ones?” I said, collapsing against the monolith.

Ornithopter:

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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 5 Part 63: Jurassic Era

1/21/26 #TimeTravelAuthors #count #Wss366 #Roger #Mastoprompt

“Chosen ones?” Emily repeated. “Could you explain?”

"It's a literary trope where someone, usually unsuitable, is 'chosen' to save the world while fighting against impossible odds."

“Trope? Pray tell, what does that mean?”

“A literary cliché.”

“So, you think we’ve been chosen to stop the Illuminati?”

“Not really. It’s more likely that we're Lovecraftian characters who will be polished off or driven insane by implacable dark forces.”

“We could just travel to a pleasant time and place and live out our ghostly lives.”

“When you were alive, you could have just written a nice ‘women’s column,’ and ignored the threat in Europe. But you didn’t.”

Emily smiled, kicked a piece of coral, and then said, “No more than you can turn your back on this. There are things more significant than our puny lives and happiness.”

“#Roger that! Bogart couldn’t have said it better.”

“You know I can’t #count the number of times you make references I don’t understand.”

“Actor, 1940s. He starred in big films, including ‘Casablanca,’ where he says, ‘It doesn't take much to see that the problems of three little people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world.’”

“It’s a good line even if your imitation smells like yesterday’s fish.”

Casablanca (1942), starring Humphrey Bogart, Ingrid Bergman, & Paul Henreid:

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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 5 Part 64: Jurassic Era

1/23/26 #TimeTravelAuthors A favorite moment in your story #Wss366 grounds
1/25/26 #TimeTravelAuthors Problem/difficulty you had with time travel
1/27/26 #TimeTravelAuthors Medical care.

“So what now? We’re on the island.”

I didn’t have a good answer to Emily’s question, but I offered, “We can walk around the pyramid looking for a way in. Then we do an Indiana Jones—Sorry, I did it again. Act like tomb raiders. Like those Egyptologists and King Tut’s tomb. Wait, that’s cursed, isn’t it?”

She laughed. “A curse can’t kill us. We’re dead already. We have the best medical care there is. So, let’s go.”

Actually, that worried me. Time travel and/or being a ghost seemed overpowered. We could go to any time or place; heal; manifest clothes, money, and other items; fly; go through walls; and God knows what else. Changing history didn’t seem to be a problem. There was the amnesia, the fatigue of changing between material and dematerialized, and the possible complication of meeting yourself. Were we really OP chosen ones? It just didn’t track.

I didn’t bother Emily with these worries. What #grounds except instinct could I base my worries on? What could go wrong if we were overpowered? Famous last words.

The pyramid was even bigger than it had looked from a distance. It took a good five minutes to round the first corner.

“What’s your favorite memory?”

Emily’s question caught me off guard. Why was she asking now?

“I told you I don’t remember my old life, so there isn’t much to choose from. Let’s see… I think it was when Josephine Baker gave me the name, Luminelle Bijou.”

“Not when you met me?”

Was she fishing for a compliment? That didn’t strike me as Emily-like. “As I remember it, you were in a panic when we first met, and your living counterpart was downright rude. But if you need a compliment, I enjoyed playing cards with you and matching wits even more.”

She smiled. I’d said the right thing.

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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 5 Part 65: Jurassic Era

#TimeTravelAuthors 31. Author's choice #Wss366 Redolent #MastoPrompt Melt

The inner sea, surrounded by pyramids, was calm. It wasn’t until we reached a corner that we encountered significant debris: piles of seaweed and logs, as well as a huge squid #melting back into the primordial ooze. The air was #redolent of decay. The buzzing of insects over the corpse underscored the absence of larger living creatures within the inner sea.

We skirted the corpse, rounded the corner, and found steps carved into the pyramid's side. They rose gradually, switching back and forth as they climbed. Emily scouted ahead and reported that the stairs ended at a tunnel leading into the pyramid about two-thirds of the way up.

“It’s a long, exposed climb,” I said upon hearing the news. “I think we should decide where we’re going next in case we need to escape quickly.”

Learn more about the rabbits
Learn more about the illuminati
Learn more about Bjou’s past
Visit Emily’s Grandmother
Take a break and go somewhere safe and cozy.

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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 5 Part 66: Jurassic Era

#Wss366 Mace #TimeTravelAuthors 7/1. Saturday excerpt (optional word: love)

With the question of where we would go next settled, I began climbing. At first, an accumulation of small debris made climbing difficult, but the endless steps weren’t steep. As long as I took my time and rested periodically, I could avoid becoming exhausted.

Eventually, I reached the top of the stairs and faced the tunnel. Looking back at the numerous switchbacks, I chuckled at the thought of a ghost getting winded.

The tunnel was dimly lit by #mace-like torches spaced every dozen meters. Their flickering, flameless orange light made navigating easy. Dust covered the floor, disturbed only in the center.

When Emily checked, she found the walls were thick with no chambers beyond. I shivered at the thought of what might happen if I rematerialized inside a wall. There would be no escaping that way.

I explained my thoughts to Emily and asked her to stay near me in case I needed to time-travel quickly. I wanted her within easy reach. Solo time-traveling and rematerializing in solid matter weren’t experiments we dared try. We didn’t even know if she could travel on her own.

She nodded.

I eyed the tunnel again and said, “Spooky! I would #love to know where that tunnel goes without entering it.”

“Probably Ayesha awaits us there,” Emily responded.

“Sorry, who?”

“Got you. ‘Ayesha, She-who-must-be-obeyed,’ the antagonist in H. Rider Haggard’s book ‘She.’”

“Touché, you did indeed.”

“Shall we go? I could hold your hand,” Emily said.

I declined the offer, but the tunnel seemed a little less creepy because of that thought and the humor.

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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 5 Part 67: Late Jurassic Era: Switzerland

#Wss366 Mercurial #MastoPrompt Surreptitious #TimeTravelAuthors 8/1. Anything: #TimeParadox?

Our footsteps rang hollow in the tunnel, which curved slightly to the right. After a hundred meters, the passageway branched into three tunnels: up, down, and straight ahead.

"Which way?" I asked in a low voice to avoid echoes.

“Let’s try forward,” Emily said, her tone matching mine. “It looks safest. The dust is undisturbed. If we learn nothing, we can always come back.”

That made sense. To be even safer, I tried manifesting a marking pen. When that failed, I attempted to manifest a piece of chalk. I’d pictured a nice, colorful piece of sidewalk chalk, but I received a rough, chalky stone. It would serve my purpose, though, so I made a #surreptitious mark to show which way we’d come.

[Continued in next post]

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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 5 Part 67: Late Jurassic Era: Switzerland (2 of 2)

#Wss366 Mercurial #MastoPrompt Surreptitious #TimeTravelAuthors 8/1. Anything: #TimeParadox?

[Continued from previous post]

On either side of the corridor, large empty rooms opened up. A thick layer of grime gave evidence that no one had used them in a long time.

We’d just started considering turning back when the passageway opened into a large tunnel heading down. It too had been long neglected. Faded murals depicting a history were painted on the walls, drawing us onward. Above ran inscrutable astrological symbols, along with inscriptions in forgotten languages.

We'd emerged at a midpoint depicting a toadish creature leaping, as if traveling forward in time. We could either head back the direction we’d come and learn about these creatures’ prior history or go down to learn about more recent events.

I pointed toward the future, and Emily nodded in agreement.

Initially, the scenes resembled those we’d seen in the pterodactyl caves, depicting a war between the toads and tentacle-headed monsters. From these scenes, we gathered that the conflict had gone on for centuries, if not millennia, with the toads as the eventual victors.

Mixed in with these images were blobish creatures that gradually became more rabbitlike. Initially, they seemed little more than domesticated beasts, then slaves, and finally soldiers. Next, the rabbits appeared, revolting against both of the eldritch races and eventually achieving freedom.

Someone had defaced the next portion of the mural, obliterating the drawing.

When the images resumed, the first one depicted a rabbit morphing into a man with wings on his feet.

Above it was inscribed:

आशुपद्भ्यां शरदः पतमानानि पत्राणि अनुपद्यन्ते।
Ὀξυτάτοις ποσὶ δεῖ σε τὰ φθινοπωρινὰ φύλλα λαβεῖν

We almost continued, but Emily noticed chalk marks near the floor.

“This looks like your writing,” she said, reading, “You need the fleetest feet to catch the autumn leaves.”

“Not me. If I’d written it, it would be a #timeparadox.”

Time Paradox:

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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 5 Part 68: Late Jurassic Era, Switzerland

#Wss366 Mercury #MastoPrompt Trepanning #TimeTravelAuthors 9/1. Does your story get “political?”

“Well, someone wrote it, and it must mean something,” Emily said, tracing the chalk writing with her finger.

“‘Fleetest feet’ clearly refers to #Mercury,” I said.

“But what does Mercury symbolize? If you wrote it, I would interpret it as, ‘You need to be fast to catch the past.’ Autumn leaves symbolize the past. To catch the past, one needs to time-travel. The rabbit becomes Mercury, meaning it can time-travel, which is something we had already suspected.”

I nodded. It was conjecture, but it made sense. Could I have written it, though? I puzzled over that and then said, “Well, according to the time particle theory, it wouldn’t need to be a paradox.”

The only reply I got was a nod.

After that, the mural showed a procession of figures, often with rabbits in period-appropriate garb. Most of the humans appeared to be kings or nobles, while others were warriors. Among them, I thought I spotted a Mayan #trepanning a victim, Nero plunging a dagger into his throat; Genghis Khan heading a horde; the Goths burning Rome; and Joan of Arc being tried. All races and genders were included.

Latin captions replaced the Greek ones, while Sanskrit continued. The next translation we found was under a figure wearing medieval armor. He stood proudly holding a lance and a shield bearing a large, scarlet Maltese cross. Above the drawing, it was written:

क्षुद्रे́भिः क्षुद्रे́भिः छेदै́रपि महा́न् वनस्पतिः पतति
Multis plagis parvis cadit magna quercus.

In chalk below appeared: "Council of Nicosia, Christmas 1191: 'Many small cuts will fell the great oak.'"

“This definitely looks like your writing,” Emily said.

“Well, I wish I weren’t so cryptic!”

“It wouldn’t be you if you weren’t.”

The figures became more recognizable as we progressed. Emily recognized Ivan the Terrible, Tsar Nicholas II, and Robespierre, who stood next to a guillotine. Each person was accompanied by sneering, whispering rabbits. We both recognized Stalin and Hitler. Next to the latter were rabbits wearing SS uniforms. Later, I recognized Trollop, alongside men with "ICE-Nine" emblazoned on their jackets, like a medieval insignia. Here, the rabbits wore red hats.

Few tyrants weren’t associated with the creatures.

Mercury:

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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 5 Part 69: Late Jurassic Era, Switzerland

#Wss366 Buck #TimeTravelAuthors Hug

“I remember this man,” I said, pointing at Trollop. “He was a TV star and grifter. I have no memory of how he ends, so this must be from around the time I died. From here on out, it’s a futurerama. Maybe you’ll get to see #Buck Rogers. You said you wanted to see that kind of future.”

“Who?” Emily looked like she was going to laugh.

“Sorry, I thought you would know that one. He's an old science fiction character. At least he's old to me. He featured in serials...”

“Shush, listen,” Emily interrupted.

I heard a faint sound like, “Tekeli-li! Teke-li!” The flute-like music grew louder, raising the hair on the back of my neck.

Desperate, I grabbed Emily in an embrace that under other circumstances could have been mistaken for a #hug, saying, “We have to get out of here.”

“Take us somewhere else where we can learn about the rabbits!” we said together.

Buck Rogers:

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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 6 Part 70: Cretaceous–Paleogene extinction event, Yucatán

#Wss366 #Evolution/ #DarwinDay #TimeTravelAuthors Whatever

Perhaps because we had been discussing Buck Rogers just before we time-jumped, we appeared in what at first seemed to be a futuristic scene.

We were atop a tall tower that bent like a stalk in the wind. Below, a town spread out, made up of buildings of many shapes. There were triangles on top of squat, square structures; octagons balancing great globes; and tiered palaces in shapes that defied description. Colossal, arched roadways and fluted buttresses linked all the buildings. Lovecraft came to mind once again.

Massive shapes crawled along the causeways in huge, battling waves. Creatures resembling two-horned triceratops mounted by toads wielding lances clashed with an army of rabbits armed with spears. Here and there, a bridge would collapse under the weight of the combatants. Above them, pterodactylish creatures as large as dragons flew. Rabbits dropped flaming projectiles on their foes from their backs.

The scene was straight off the murals in the pyramid’s tunnels.

Suddenly, they all stopped and looked up at the sky. At first, I thought they had spotted us. But when I followed their gaze, I saw a massive fireball streaking toward us. Time slowed as I realized this was the meteor that had hit Yucatán—one of the great extinction events.

I grabbed Emily as a burst of light and heat enveloped us. The land buckled, and the spire collapsed. The roar of the wind and super-heated air drowned out my scream. “Take us someplace safe.”

Cretaceous–Paleogene extinction event:

#TootFic #MicroFiction #NMFic #History

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 7 Part 71: 12 May 1999: London

#Wss366 lavish #TimeTravelAuthors 02/13. Love in your story

“Arrrhhhh Arrrrhhhh Arrhh…” I screamed, rolling in the grass. I was on fire! Everything was black except for the pain that filled my universe. Then nothing—not a velvety darkness or a #lavish tunnel of light leading to the beyond, but a void. Before I plunged into it, I had a last regret: “Death… Too bad… I could have… loved that woman…”

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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 7 Part 72: 12 May 1999: London

#Wss366 Flash #MastoPrompt Breed #TimeTravelAuthors 02/21. Saturday excerpt (optional word: listen)

“#Listen, I'm telling you this woman has nothing worse than a bad sunburn,” said a man with a British accent as I awoke. My skin felt like it was on fire, but the pain was nothing like what I had endured before I blacked out.

When I opened my eyes, I found a man in a white coat leaning over me. The stethoscope around his neck made it clear who he was.

Another voice, thickly accented, spoke next, “Ah swear, sir, she had third-degree burns over most of ’er body. Half a dozen folk told us she were on fire. One o’ them daft Buddhists what set themselves alight in protest.”

“Look at her. Do those look like third-degree burns? What kind of idiots do they #breed in Yorkshire anyway!?” The doctor was clearly irritated, and I didn’t think my explaining that they were #flash burns from a meteor would help. Things would only get more complicated if I tried.

Already, the burning sensation had decreased and was more like an itch. I was going to have to escape before they noticed I was still healing. It would be a sticky wicket, as they say.

I sat up, jumping off the gurney. “Excuse me, I've got to go,” I said and bolted.

“Hey, wait,” I heard behind me. I don’t know who it was, nor did I wait to find out. Spotting a restroom sign, I headed straight for it. On the way, I noted a nurse in uniform. I could use that to make my escape.

Once in the bathroom, I manifested the uniform, ducked back out, and headed down the first corridor I saw. No one seemed to follow me, so I slowed down and was relieved to see Emily floating along behind me.

“That was close,” I said, stopping.

“That was a frightfully close shave,” she replied in a mock British accent. “Your quick thinking is commendable. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t gotten us away from that meteor. I’m not sure even your healing trick would have helped.”

A worse alternative occurred to me: constantly healing while being burned away in the next instant. I knew this time-traveling ghost business had to have a few gotchas. Turned out they were big ones.

Flash burns:

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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 7 Part 73: 12 May 1999: London

#Wss366 Masher #MastoPrompt Render #TimeTravelAuthors 02/23. A #TimeTravel fiction that your characters enjoy.

I was already drawing unwanted attention by talking to thin air. Attention, I didn’t want. If this continued, someone would spot me as a fake.

“Excuse me, I’m new here. Could you point me to the way out?” I asked a fresh-faced nurse who paused to look at me. I definitely had to get out of there; my American accent was a big liability.

The woman pointed, and I headed in that direction.

I was almost at the door when I stopped. Seated in the waiting room, a young teen was reading a copy of “A Wrinkle in Time.”

I stared as a memory surfaced.

When I was young, we traveled to Great Britain, where my mother was in an accident. While I was stuck in the hospital, waiting for her, I read most of that book. That's what first sparked my interest in time-travel. I bet I read everything I could find on the subject.

“Oh!” I squealed as a man walked by and sat down next to the girl. He had just groped my ass.

I was #rendered silent by the outrage, but Emily wasn’t. “#Masher,” she spat. If she hadn’t been incorporeal, I think she would have slapped him or worse.

I didn’t tell her he was my father.

A Wrinkle in Time:

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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 7 Part 74: 12 May 1999: London

#Wss366 Cascade #TimeTravelAuthors 02/25. glow

Once outside, I found a secluded spot and changed into less conspicuous clothes.

Emily watched, amused. “That’s rather frumpy,” she said, looking at the shapeless dress I had adopted.

“I didn’t know you cared,” I responded.

“But I do care. You looked much nicer as a Florence Nightingale.”

I hoped the #glow on my cheeks wasn’t obvious. To help cover up my reaction, I “frumped,” “I’ll draw less attention this way. Besides, being goosed by strangers isn’t my idea of fun. Now let’s find a friendly pub where we can get a pint and discuss what to do next.”

“I noticed a place along the way we came, the ‘Kensington #Cascade.’ The sign showed beer flowing from a keg.”

It sounded like a bit of a dive to me, but I agreed.

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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 7 Part 75: 12 May 1999: London

#Wss366 Front #MastoPrompt Kink #TimeTravelAuthors 02/27. Author's choice/promo

The pub was dimly lit, with light jazz playing, and a lively debate was going on among patrons about devolution. We found a private booth in a corner where we could see out, but other people couldn’t see in. It was an ideal place to meet and discuss our plans.

I hated to bring up our recent misadventure. Just thinking about it made me shudder and caused my hands to shake, but it had to be done. "We're going to have to be more careful about how we do time-jumps. That was close."

Emily nodded and materialized just long enough to take a sip of her cider.

“I don’t know how complicated we can phrase things. Simple might be best.”

Emily nodded again, then said, “Pretzels. I want pretzels.”

I chuckled and ordered some. While waiting for them to arrive, I studied the room more carefully. It was a nice place where an office lady might stop for a drink after work. In fact, a couple was talking at a nearby table. Emily had done well to pick the place.

The pretzels arrived, and Emily materialized long enough to nibble on one. She stroked another one as if she had some kind of bread #kink. I think some of the oddest things at times.

I resumed. “I recognized a girl at the hospital, so I'd like to talk to her and learn more about my past. After that, we should leave. Going to specific places and times should be safe. Here are the options I’ve thought of. Some are from the mural, and others I have just thought of.”

I listed some options.

“What do you think?”

Devolution in the United Kingdom:

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#TootFic #MicroFiction #NMFic

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 7 Part 76: 12 May 1999: London

#Wss366 Cleavage #TimeTravelAuthors 03/03. Are your characters protecting anything/one?

Besides deciding where to go, we discussed how to protect ourselves from a bad-trip. That was my poor joke, but the discussion was anything but a joke. In the end, we couldn’t decide. We didn’t know enough about how phrasing our intentions works. We decided to keep it simple, but add provisos if it seemed warranted.

Upon leaving the pub, my first task would be to visit a bookstore. The proprietor of the Kensington Cascade was happy to direct me to one nearby, where I found the book I was looking for.

Next was the hospital.

I changed into an outfit that I hoped wouldn't draw attention, but would also seem trustworthy to a young girl. I consulted Emily, who suggested that I show less #cleavage in case the father showed up. It wasn't like I was dressed like a sex bomb, but I adjusted the bodice just in case.

Upon entering the hospital, I checked for my father and the doctor who had seen me. Seeing that the coast was clear, I sat down by the girl's side.

“I see you like time-travel stories,” I began.

The girl looked surprised. Then, in a voice tinged with a French accent, she replied, “They’re okay.”

“Here,” I said, offering her the book I had bought, H. G. Wells’s “Time Machine.”

She took the book hesitantly, and I had a brief flash of memory. I was sitting in the hospital, worried about my mother, when a strange woman came up to me and gave me a book. My younger self thought how the woman’s dress was almost identical to one her mother wore.

“You look like my mother,” she said, and I heard Emily snort.

“Oh, is she in the hospital?” I asked, ignoring Emily.

“She suddenly got sick.” A tear ran down the girl’s face.

“She’s going to be all right,” I said. “It’s appendicitis. But she’ll be fine.”

“Where were you born?” I asked. “I notice you have a French accent.”

“Normandy," she replied. "My mother just got married, and we’re moving to America.”

“He’s coming,” Emily called.

“I’m sorry. I have to go,” I said. “Keep reading about time-travel. I think you’ll find it fascinating.”

With that, I got up and hurriedly left.

H. G. Wells, “Time Machine”:

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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 7 Post 77: 12 May 1999: London

#Wss366 befog/befogged #MastoPrompt Corner #TimeTravelAuthors 03/05. Apologies

After leaving the hospital, we strolled toward Kensington Gardens until we found a pleasant place to sit. I sipped a coffee I got from a #corner store. The trees behind us muffled the noise of the London traffic. In a place like this, it was hard to believe that monsters lurked in the shadows, perpetuating evil for unknown reasons. But for the moment, at least, I could relax in peace.

When no one was around, I asked, “Is there anything you’d like to do or see while we’re in London?”

“I can’t think of anything. Oh, wait! 221B Baker Street and the Elgin Marbles. Though I suppose we could see those in their original glory.” Emily was sitting on the grass, smiling up at me. You would almost think we were a normal couple, except the grass didn’t bend under Emily’s weight.

“Indeed. Going to Ancient Greece would be fun. We could see a Greek play in the original or consult the oracle at Delphi. But while we’re here, we could do something of local interest. It’s a little late for sightseeing, but we can check out Sherlock Holmes’ digs tomorrow. It might also be a good idea to go to the British Museum. Maybe we can learn something there. There might be things that other people aren’t allowed to see, or secret rooms. I can’t think of anyone better than you to sniff them out.”

“Then let’s walk to the Prince Albert Memorial,” Emily said. “Then we can find a place to stay for the night and eat. Time-tripping to avoid waiting a night seems like taking a risk for nothing.”

I had to agree. Besides, it would be nice to walk in the park with her. I apologized for her not being able to share oysters or steak with me.

She laughed, saying, “Oysters are disgusting. But if you order room service, I could share a few bites of steak with you.”

So that’s what we did.

The next day, we were out and about before anything opened. The streets were still #befogged when we reached 221B Baker Street. It turned out to be nothing more than a plaque on the wall stating that the fictional character Sherlock Holmes had lived there. Watching Emily’s face drift in and out of view in the fog was actually more interesting.

221B Baker Street:

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#TimeTravelingGhost EP 7 Post 78: 12 May 1999: London

#Wss366 Bowels #MastoPrompt Winsome #TimeTravelAuthors 03/07. Quiet/loud

Now that we had seen the sights, I caught a cab to the British Museum, while Emily flew overhead. An insipid ballad, “Swear It Again,” played #loudly on the radio. So I tuned it out along with the heavily accented East-Indian voice of the driver offering me additional ride services. Instead, I manifested a cell phone and played with the browser. I had forgotten how janky that experience was in the late 90s.

When we arrived at the museum, I showed Emily the phone and the internet. She was suitably impressed and offered me a #winsome smile. It wasn’t flying cars, but she was thrilled.

Since it was a Thursday morning, the museum was #quiet when we arrived. We hurried through the lightly populated rooms to the archaeological section, where I spent most of my time. Some items, such as German World War II artifacts and Crusader swords, made me uneasy. I couldn’t tell whether that was due to their supernatural aura or my own biases.

The Sutton Hoo exhibition, however, was wonderful. As I gazed at the treasures, fragmented memories surfaced of seeing them as a young girl.

At some point, Emily and I separated, with me exploring the public exhibitions and her roaming areas unavailable to visitors. I had just begun examining some Chinese jade artifacts when she appeared.

“Follow me,” she said.

“What did you find?”

“You were right. There's more here than meets the eye. Come on, you'll understand when you see it.”

We hurried through a door marked "Private," down a set of stairs, and through a maze of corridors. I wasn’t sure how Emily had found anything here. Finally, in the #bowels of the museum, we arrived at a heavy metal door.

The Anglo-Saxon ship burial at Sutton Hoo:

#TootFic #MicroFiction #NMFic #UrbanFantasy #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy