Monday, 19 November 2012

The Hands of Time

When a young woman vanishes without a trace from a quaint fishing village on the coast of England only one person knows the truth, but he remains silent allowing the authorities to search for her in vain. 

Meanwhile, Valerie Crane finds herself transported to the year 1605.  Terrified and confused she turns for help to the Whitfield brothers, who take her in and offer her a home.  Both Alexander and Finlay Whitfield fall in love with the mysterious woman who shows up on their doorstep creating a love triangle that threatens to consume them all.  Valerie must make her choice, deciding between the brother who will lead her down the path of destruction or one who will give her a love she couldn’t find in her own time. 


I was lying in tall grass, dotted with wildflowers and warm from the summer sun.  I just lay there for a few moments enjoying the peaceful feeling of floating, before suddenly realizing that this was somehow all wrong.  I sat up and looked around puzzled.  There was no sign of the shop I’d been in or even the village.  Sparse trees surrounded the meadow I was lying in, and I could see the river flowing to my left through the gap in the trees.   There were two fishing boats tied up to posts rising out of the muddy bank, but no sign of the marina or the shops that were there just a few moments ago. 

I turned to my right, and my blood ran cold.  I could see the castle perched on the hill above me, except it was no longer a sinister relic of another time.  The castle stood intact and proud, the honey-colored stones warmed by the sun, and its leaded windows reflecting the afternoon light.  The wall encircling the castle rose high and impregnable, broken only by the arched wooden doors studded with iron nails and partially opened.  I could hear distant voices, and the barking of dogs carried on the wind.

What was going on?  One minute I was in the shop looking at the cupid clock, and now I was lying in a meadow not too far from the castle; that up until five minutes ago was just a sad ruin.  I looked at my watch.  It was 4:10pm.  Only five minutes had passed since I turned the hands on the ormolu clock.  How did I get here?  I looked around again.  In relation to the river and the castle, I was sitting in about the spot where the shop would have been, except there was no shop and no street.  I could see some fishermen’s huts off in the distance, where there were holiday cottages just a few minutes ago.  I closed my eyes, shook my head and opened them again.  I was still in the same spot.  Reluctantly, I got to my feet and looked around again.

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