Cloudy Day, Stuffed Zucchini And White Mushroom Sauce


That being said, I’m going to burst if I don’t write something.


There, I’ve done it.


Miggsie sat there scrawling on a tablet with a fountain pen dipped in ink missing the laptop. She hadn’t figured out how to get back to her own time yet. Maybe the man on the horse would give a clue. He seemed to show up a lot.


“Maybe if I ask him it won’t come across as odd. He knew my name. Wasn’t surprised by my dress. There’s got to be a way seeing I’ve been here before. I smell things simmering. First the stove, then him.”


She selected file, then save. “Hey! How did I get here! Am I cooking too?” She didn’t smell anything. “Great my food is burning in another time, or another dimension. Wonder if the man on the horse will turn the stove down…” She pushed back from the oak desk glancing down at the pen and paper. “Ok, this is absurd. How am I doing this?


First things first… whatever they are.




Change The Clocks Back



Daylight savings time ends so fall back. She’d set the clock, the only one that had to be done manually, back an hour and went to sleep. A Horse whinny around 7:30am coming from under her window woke her. Rolling over she began to drift then heard it again.


“What … was that a horse”?


Looking out the window there was snow, mounds of it, but it hadn’t snowed much in winter for years. There was a horse and rider, a well-dressed rider or at least dressed differently, way differently. Men didn’t wear pants like that, and drove cars. No cars, nothing across the street but a large field, no buildings, no retirement home, no doctor’s offices, no haze over the horizon. No haze. The view was clearer than it’d been in a while. No stores in the distance, no highway, no hospital. She sat up in bed, bed, full-sized not the twin mattress she had on the floor she intended to buy a bed frame for. Candleholders on the wall gave the light.


“Where am I living?”


She got up in the same sweatshirt dress she’d passed out in and the clothes in the closet were the same.


“Talk about not making sense. This sure isn’t Jennie Logan being dressed for the times or am I? What direction did I go, back to where? How do I even know to think this?”


She put on her coat and headed out the door.




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