Time Travel

(Agh!  I don't know what's happening!  I always remember to post on Mondays!  Now I've forgotten two weeks in a row.)

Actually, I do know what happened.  My husband and I were talking the other day about how I've been doing since the sudden death of my dad.  I said to him (thinking I was very clever) that I feel like I slipped on a banana peel at the end of April and I haven't stopped falling yet.  Every time I blink, another week has passed by.  My mind is still in April, but my body has passed through a time portal into June (almost July)!

So I'm going to take the idea and run with it for our prompt this week.  Alice went through the looking glass, Gregor went down a vent, and I've slipped on a banana peel.  What will happen to your character that will launch them into a new world?

Enjoy!

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My response:

I was the only one on the tram.  I guess the heat of the afternoon kept everyone else inside, and I would have been there, too, if it hadn't been for my mom's boyfriend, Brad.  He was the reason our annual retreat to the mountains had turned into a circus.

I stood on the platform until the tram arrived.  The operators worked behind one way glass, so I couldn't even see them as the tram approached.  No one else was coming, but I had to wait the requisite ten minutes before heading up the mountain.  That was fine by me.  I had my phone, and I didn't have three sets of hands trying to snatch it away from me.  Brad's kids thought it was so unfair that I had a phone and they didn't, and they wouldn't leave me alone with it.  Brad was even talking to my mom about whether she really thought I needed my own phone ... which is why I popped up and stormed out on my own in the heat.

We'd bought passes each day at what was, in the winter, a ski resort.  In the summer, it was a hiker's haven.  I loved it.  Indian paintbrushes nodded beneath the tram, and I spotted a moose and her calf in the shadows of the pines.  I took a deep breath and left Mom, Brad, and all that baggage in the condo behind me.

Then the tram shuddered.  I was only half way up the mountain.  The tram rocked back and forth, releasing the momentum it still had after the cables stopped.  Metal creaked.  A chill shot down my back and a pit opened where my stomach should have been.  My mind chided my body for overreacting.  Surely the tram would start moving again, soon.  It always did.

But I'd never been stopped on the tram all alone.  The terrifying thought hit me - what if they didn't know I was in here?  Had they stopped the tram for the night?  Would I be trapped until morning, hanging a hundred feet in the air over a treacherous mountain slope?! 

I could feel panic rising.

But no.  With more creaking and rocking, the tram started moving again.  I sighed and turned around, sinking down onto the bench in relief and pulling out my phone.  Sure enough, I'd freaked out over nothing.

It wasn't until the tram stopped at the top that I suspected anything.  The automatic doors levered themselves open, and an icy wind swept through the tram.  The hundred degree air vanished in a swirl of flurries. 

I blinked, standing up and heading towards the doors.  The railings and metal scaffolding that made up the tram stop were covered in white.  Out the windows, a blizzard raged. 

My chin hit the floor.

... then the floor gave way ...

This week's prompt is brought to you by the random wanderings of my mind.  I can't really say where it came from, or where I will take it from here, but here it is:

Prompt: ... then the floor gave way beneath her ...

Enjoy!

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My response:

(I'm getting a kind of Alice through the looking glass vibe from this ... we'll see where it goes.)

Kelly knew she should go back downstairs as soon a she saw the gaps in the roof.  There were a few houses like this.  Eighteen years of rain and mold made them death traps.  Rule number one: never put yourself in danger. 

Kelly couldn't help herself.  She'd seen the old house peeking out through the trees when she'd crested the hill.  It was an old Victorian with rounded turrets at both front corners, and it looked just like the doll house she'd had until she was ten and Steven threw it out the window because she'd eaten the last piece of zucchini bread before he could get to it.

The insides had been devastated, but here and there Kelly caught clues of how it looked in its glory days.  There were areas of deep burgundy paint on the wall of the dining room and rosewood furniture, even a crystal vase, complete with dried flowers.  Kelly knew she shouldn't, but each room called to her, and she worked her way slowly through the house.  The curving stairway to the second story was still intact, but the hallway down the second level looked sketchy.  Looking at the rotted floorboards, Kelly almost turned back.  Then she spotted something in the murky mirror that hung crooked on a door.  A porcelain doll. 

Kelly sucked in a breath and eased into the hallway, taking care to step as near the wall as she could.  That trick got her as far as the doorway, where she could peer into the room.  Against the far wall, another wood and glass case sat undisturbed.  There wasn't just one doll, there were dozens.  Large dolls, tiny ones, babies, women, girls, each one with a beautiful dress, shining glass eyes, and ringlet hair.  Kelly couldn't help herself.  According to the rules, anything you scavenged belonged to you.  She'd never wanted anything like she wanted one of those dolls.

Between the doorway and the window case stood a large, four poster bed.  Annie eased forward on her toes.  Surely if the floor still held the massive bed, it would support her own added weight.  She wasn't quite fourteen, and she knew she was small for her age.  Kelly eased forward.  One foot, then the next.  She scanned the case as she moved, wanting to end up on the right side for opening it.  A small, metal bracket gave away the opening, and Kelly's hand reached out towards it.  Five steps.  Six.  Seven.  Kelly's fingers brushed the bracket ... and then the floor gave way beneath her.

(Okay, well never mind about the looking glass thing.  Apparently I'm so caught up in the post-apocalyptic world right now that I can't seem to pull myself out of it.  But, I'm almost done with my first draft of my latest work in progress ... in fact I'll go put the last chapter on it right now.  :-)