The Church

On a hill nearby is a thousand year old Norman church. Next to it is a field with the remains of a hunting lodge for Athelstan the first King of England. On a ridge behind, the course of a Roman road.

For generations people have been drawn to live in this settlement. Last week my life changed, something odd happened.

I seem to be caught in a sort of loop. Trapped between the time of the Romans and the Norman invasion of England. I remember falling in the churchyard, I slipped. The path is made of stone, it was wet. I fell quickly backwards and then nothing. I guess I was unconscious.

When I came round I was still in the churchyard but everything looked very different. I found out later the year as 1093. Now I am caught between the three. I can’t explain what has happened. I go for so long in in one and then wake up in the next. Sometimes it’s months, sometimes just hours. It is only ever one of the three periods in time.

I can travel but always end up after I’ve slept back in the village. I manage OK, I seem to be in someone else’s body when I arrive. In the Roman time I am a servant on the staff of the local administrator, in Athelstan’s I work on the land and in Norman times I’m the priest. They don’t seem to know that I am even there, yet I live their life and think their thoughts. Life is a nightmare I need to get back to where I came from but am not sure I ever will.


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