Excerpt 2 from Operations of Time

     This excerpt happens pretty quickly after the first one (limited options- I'm gonna have to write more 😱). I really enjoyed writing this section. When I was younger (think most of childhood through till mid-twenties) I did theater, acting classes, and studying singing. These things have one thing in common, performing in front of others, and I have a wicked case of stage freight. To have something I loved doing connected to something I violently hated, was tough. The real conflict would occur when I forgot a line or right before I had to sing a solo. My vision would narrow, an oppressive silence would squish me, the blinding heat from the stage lights would burn me, and I would only be able to hear the pounding of the blood being pushed past my ears to on it's way to my brain in complete stasis. It only ever was seconds long but it felt like an eternity. Just thinking of the moments when that happened, because I remember everyone of them, transports me there to experience it again. While I wouldn't call that an enjoyable experience, being able to use those particularly vivid memories to help bolster this part of the story felt great and maybe a bit therapeutic. Hopefully that comes across when it's read. Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    “Why don’t you go play cards in the Red Room,” Sophie indicated the room at the other end of the salon with a nod. Which did appear to be papered in a red and white wallpaper which contrasted dramatically with the forest green in the salon, looking light and airy by comparison. “You’re always complaining that no one will play with you. There’s a whole room of people and you can learn how to play whist or loo or whatever.”
    “I already know how to play whist and loo and whatever.” Alice had gotten a book of card games for Christmas years ago. It had been in pretty poor shape, and was no doubt a last minute gift from her brother’s friend, Charlie, who probably didn’t remember she would be there. She had taken to cards like a fish to water, especially poker and black jack with her innate memory and maths ability; she cleaned up. So much so that her twin brother, Ben, and his friend wouldn’t play with her by the time the holidays were over. But they sure enjoyed springing her on their unsuspecting school mates so she could divest them of their pocketmoney. Alice felt her lips slide up into a lopsided smile. She shooed the memory away reflexively. “Maybe I’ll go take a walk, it’s got to be cooler downstairs. Is there a garden?”
    If Sophie answered, Alice heard none of it.  Everything froze. Her vision narrowed. Her hands became cold and her fingers tingled. Sweat ceased  to drop. Fans stopped fluttering. And the thumping of the dancers was replaced by the loud booming of her heart in her ears covering the sound of the music. What was that saying? Speak of the devil? She hadn’t even spoken of him but still he appeared. Alice had just been turning her head to look at her friend when she spotted him. Charlie. What the hell was he doing here? It had been how many years? Three? No, Four years. Charles Fitzwilliam had walked right out of her memory and through the doorway. He looked exactly as she remembered him. Well not exactly. He still kept his hair short in a Caesar cut and the twin furrows pinched between his brows in the constant frown he usually wore. But he was dressed to the nines in regency costume. Dark, well tailored coat, fancy cravat, brocade waistcoat, and extremely tight tan pants tucked into shiny black boots. It was the nicest clothes she’d ever seen him wear. His frown cleared as he leaned down to speak to the aforementioned prim Ms. Authority-on-all-things-Regency. His head was turning towards Alice.
    Alice quickly spun around placing Charlie at her back. She stared down at her brown boots peeking out from under the hem of her white gown, wishing herself invisible. Her stomach soured and mouth filled with saliva. Swallowing, Alice considered her options: pretend she never saw the last person she wanted to see ever again or run. Run it was. Alice started to look around for her quickest exit that wasn’t a jump out of a two story window, although that option was looking more and more attractive by the second, when Sophie tugged on her arm.
    “What’s going on?” Sophie asked.
    “Nothing!” Alice's voice sounded shrill and too loud even to her own ears. Sophie frowned at her. Alice continued, “I…I’m going to go for a walk. Ah…to see if there’s a garden.”
    Sophie’s frown deepened, “There is. I told you they are offering a fancy tea service. Are you sure you’re all right?”
    Alice nodded, “Fine. Fine. Just hot and bored. Nothing some tea won’t fix. I’ll find you later. Enjoy the dancing.”