Rated: E · Short Story · Experience · #1140565
A story I wrote recently for the creative writing forum.
The first signs of daylight, spilling through the thin bedroom curtains woke me up prematurely at 6 A.M. that Monday morning, all those years ago.
I will never forget that day!
Those wretched German bombs had disturbed my sleep most of the night, even when they fell at a distance, and I was none too pleased to be roused that early.
I grudgingly got out of bed, stretching my arms and legs, trying to wake up properly.
“What a time of day to be woken up” I thought to myself.
I shuffled to the bathroom for a shower, eyes half closed.
“That’s sure to wake me up!” I told myself.
Rubbing my eyes, I looked in the mirror.
What a shock! Looking back at me was someone else’s face! What was worse I recognised it from the box of family photos I kept under the bed.
In fear and trepidation I rushed back into the bedroom and reached under the bed to find the box of photos. Yes, there it was; the photo of my grandmother taken 60 yrs ago!
My mother had told me so many stories about my grandmother; how she was a very determined young lady who insisted on being independent, much to the horror of her family.
It seemed that it was definitely not the done thing in those days gone by. A young lady was expected to stay with her parents.
I spent what seemed like hours comparing the photo to the face in the mirror, hoping upon hope that I was wrong, but no, it was true, every feature mirrored my own in every way!
I had a long hot shower, thinking of what to do, but finding no answers to the question I asked myself, “How could this be?”
The situation became even more complicated when I returned to my bedroom to find everything changed. In the corner was an antique wardrobe, and in the middle of the wall there was an old iron bedstead in place of my comfortable divan!
At the side of the wardrobe was an old oak chest, which I discovered contained lovely underwear to compliment any ladys’ figure.
I couldn’t contain my excitement as I stepped into the reams of petticoats and frills.
I then tentatively opened the wardrobe door. What a wonder I saw within! All manner of beautifully crafted dresses such as I could never imagine wearing, except in my dreams. Satins and silks of every colour and design desirable!
With great excitement I chose the one I found to be the prettiest and tried it on. It fit perfectly over the underskirts, much to my delight. To top it all off I found a cute little hat which matched the outfit perfectly, and a pair of ankle high lace up boots.
Admiring my reflection in the mirror, I decided that I quite liked the turn of events .Why; I looked every part the Victorian elegant lady! Now I was eager to explore my new world.
So, straightening my hat and mustering all my courage, I grasped the handle of the strange door and opened it onto my new world.
What a sight met my eyes as I opened the door! Dense fog filled the street and I could just make out the shape of a horse and carriage.
Suddenly a voice greeted me from the carriage.
“Wherever are you going Emily?”.
Squinting through the fog, I could just make out the form of a tall, slender figure.
The voice was female, and as she drew closer I could see that she was a similar age to me, and just as pretty.
“Surely you haven’t forgotten our arrangements for lunchtime!”, she declared.
“No! No! Of course I haven’t! Lead the way dear friend!”
As we walked along the cobbled streets, she chatted away and I discovered from her chattering that her name was Priscilla. I felt so at ease with her, as if I had known her all my life.
Shortly, we arrived at a small café where we were welcomed in by the proprietor.
“Oh my Dears, welcome once more to my humble café!” he exclaimed.
In the corner we could just see two handsome gentlemen who seemed to be heading towards our table.
“May we join you ladies?” they enquired.
One was extremely handsome, I noted. He had dark wavy hair and the most wonderful moustache I had ever seen.
Accepting their invitation was not difficult and soon we were all chatting amicably over tea, sandwiches, and small delicious cakes.
I discovered that the gentleman who I admired was named George, and that he was titled.
He was very attentive and obviously returned my admiration.
“Wasn’t there something familiar about the name?” I mused. “Yes! It was my grandfather’s name!”
Time seemed to pass so quickly and my friend whispered in my ear that she would soon have to depart as her mother was expecting her home soon.
George leaned over and asked if he might see me again, with a chaperone of course, to which I replied “Yes I would be most happy to see you again, Sir!”
We made arrangements to all meet up again the following day, and went our separate ways.
“That was so exciting Emily!” Priscilla declared.
“Yes, I can’t wait for tomorrow!” I agreed.
We strolled back to the building where I lived, laughing and joking about our experience.
We then bid each other farewell, embracing and briefly kissing each other on the cheek, as friends do.
As I opened the door once more, I realised I was back in my own flat. Looking down I noticed that I was back in my own clothes, so I rushed to the mirror where I saw my own face looking back at me.
I went to the photo box under the bed where my grandmother’s photo was. Studying it carefully, I could see the dress I had been wearing, just minutes ago. Next to her was standing Priscilla, and in the background two gentlemen. “Yes that was George, my future grandfather, and I had had the privilege of meeting not only him but Priscilla who had been my grandmother’s best friend and bridesmaid at her wedding to George!.” I thought to myself. “What an exciting day!”
Exhausted, I lay on the bed and within moments I was asleep with my memories to dream about.