Chapter 4

Written by: Hemali Ajmera

As I sat pondering on the lonely beach, I chanced upon a brilliant idea. I felt compelled to document all that I was seeing and experiencing so as to elucidate my journey through time and space. Posterity would be grateful, I assumed. But where was I to find a quill, inkpot and paper? 

No sooner had this notion occurred to me, I felt my peripheral vision blur. Before I could gather my bearings, the entire scenery around me become a spinning mass of distorted images. I had a feeling of being inside a transparent tunnel with frosty walls.   


I landed with a thump on a heavily carpeted floor. I was in an immense room that was decorated with heavy, embroidered tapestry and elegant furniture. A beautiful crystal chandelier hanging from an ornate ceiling added to the grandeur. It was all butter upon bacon.

I straightened up and noticed a solid oak table placed beside an open window not far from me. There was paper, an inkpot and some quills on it.  Was it possible that thoughts or intense desires powered Jeffery’s machine, I wondered. The hypothesis seemed far-fetched, even preposterous. 

I headed for the table but before you could say Jack Robinson, two burly guards appeared on each side of me. A third gentleman, with a pick axe nose and powdered wig, accosted me and asked how I came to be in this room. He wore a splendid costume – a long, full-skirted silk coat, a silk shirt with chitterlings, gas pipe breeches and a loosely tied cravat. The man appeared quite important and had an air of superior virtue about him. 

“Where am I?” I queried.

“You are in the royal apartments of His Majesty King George the Third,” declared the toffee-nosed gentleman. “And how did a mafficking ragamuffin like you enter past the guards into His Majesty’s private chambers?”

I wanted to batty-fang the nincompoop but was deterred from doing so after looking at my precarious position.

I had learnt some history in school and making a quick computation, I suspected that Jeffery’s contraption may have hurled me back into early 18th century. 

 “Well, I was transported here by a twist of chance,” I said unfazed.

“Transported by what? Lad, I declare that you have committed sedition so be forthright otherwise there will be hell to pay,” thundered the obtuse man.

It seemed quite worthless explaining the circumstances of my unbidden visit to the three scourges. Fearing retribution, I mused if my thoughts could provoke Jeffery’s contraption to extract me from these unpleasant surroundings. With trepidation I decided to put my hypothesis to the test.  

I closed my eyes and envisaged being in more amicable surroundings. Pushing aside the two guards with my hands, I kicked the gibfaced snob in the groin. Before the menacing trio could gather their wits, I made a dash for the royal table, grabbed some writing material and jumped out the open window.


This chapter is full of witty, clever this one, 'a pick axe nose and powdered wig'.
I found myself chuckling at the performance of the narrator and his victims. Very vivid storytelling. I can still see the narrator grabbing writing material as he made his escape.
What I like about this is Hemali's mastering of the language. It adds great authenticity to the story and bags of atmosphere. A really interesting and entertaining piece of work. Loved it, Hemali.
"I wanted to batty-fang the nincompoop"? That made me laugh out loud. This is a great chapter, Hemali. Very, very entertaining. Congrats!
Thank you so much Suraya, Ray and Rosemary. it feels wonderful to be complimented by authors who are so accomplished. Your encouragement and kind words push me to improve myself with every new chapter.