You lucky lot you, getting two stories in one post. You must have done something good this week to warrant that. Well I won’t ask for the details of your exploits, instead I’ll tell you mine.
During one of our mass train rides on the trip to the UK had us meeting with a very angry woman. The English definitely like their trains, they are bleeding everywhere, it’s very convenient. My fellows and I had acquired a table seat along with our professor. One of my fellows was working on a memoir and had asked the professor to comment and help her edit it. He had obviously agreed, and they went to a place that was a tad more private than sitting across from me and the other girl, even though both of us had music blasting and were doing other things.
The train was definitely smoother than any other land vehicle I had been on, and my stomach was quite joyous. I don’t do well on any type of vehicle, but I do admittedly to better on some than on others. We had stopped at a couple of stations, but we were going all the way, so didn’t need to worry about getting off. On one of the stops we got the displeasure of meeting an angry commuter.
She stopped at our sitting area, and demanded if anyone was sitting in the seats that were at the moment vacant. My friend was about to tell her yes they were when she just sat down. I gazed on curiously, seeing this average looking woman who lacked eyebrows. I can understand that women, more than men, seem to misplace their eyebrows and need to paint them onto their faces to be able to walk in the sunlight. I stared a bit, her hair was all frizzy and standing at strange angles, possibly telling of her running for the train. This was supported by her huffs of breath as she wheezed air back into her lungs, either that or she was out of shape.
My friend tried again to explain to the woman that there were people in the seat she was now occupying. Eyebrow-less gave the absolute frostiest glare I have ever seen. I could visually see the words ‘stupid’ and ‘moron’ leaping from her eyes and at my friend. I than stupidly stuck my nose in and asked what was going on. It was explained to me that all the other seats were taken and that she was going to sit there until her stop. I was about to argue, but then thought that she wasn’t hurting anyone. All she was doing was occupying a seat, and wherever my other friend and the professor were, I could guess that they had seats. She could have the seat, especially since both of us didn’t want to argue with a woman who was set on taking that seat. We didn’t say this verbally, but with our eyes. They can shoot out visible words too.
I kept on watching the woman, slightly curious about who she was. I wasn’t brave enough to ask, but I was well versed in the art of watching people.
She had taken a piece of paper out that had a basic view of the front of a house. I determined that she was either an architect that was starting on a project, exterior designer, or forging her young child’s art project. All seemed plausible, I was secretly hoped it was an attempt at forgery.
At the next stop the woman left in a hurry, we didn’t have to sit with her long. Soon after, the professor and my friend reappeared. We explained the situation quickly to them, and verbalized our disdain for the woman. There is never an excuse to be uncivil to people who are trying to explain to you, never.
Our professor looked at both of us and asked, “What if she was having a bad day?”
We stopped.
We had never thought of that. Maybe we should have looked at this as unbiased as possible and wondered why the woman had been angry to begin with. It was possible that she was just an angry person, but we liked the idea of a bad day instead. So we started to weave the story of her bad day. (Can you tell that we want to be authors yet?)
Warning: I have added details since we came up to this. There is a good possibility that this will keep evolving.
It was a year far from here, one so far in the future that they were stumbling through the first stages of time travel. It hadn’t been fully developed, but they were able to go back a couple of minutes with the devices they had created. Mary (Eyebrow-less) had been the supervising director, and had put her life into this study. Her relationship was on the rocks, but she was hopeful that would come to an end very soon. Oh so very soon they would break through and be able to travel into any time they wanted to.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket, pulling it out she read the text. Eyes widening, she reread it. Her now ex-boyfriend had broken up with her through text message. That bastard. She gripped her cell phone, tears welling up. Looking at the clock she was relieved to notice that everyone had already gone home. Standing up, she knew what she needed to do, go back in time and give herself the information. Then her boyfriend wouldn’t break up with her. Yes this is the answer.
Quickly grabbing a bracelet, she slid it onto her arm. Typing in the coordinates, she gazed at the dial. She would be taken a bold step, going back further than they had ever gone before. Pressing the button, she felt power rush through her body as time rushed in the wrong direction.
Suddenly, a beeping started to sound from her wrist. Looking down, her eyes widened as she realized she had set the wrong time. Screaming she was tossed into the time vortex, which took her to our time. Staggering about she quickly finds a newspaper. The date reads 2011, and she screams. The store keeper looks at her alarmed as she turns on her heel and runs. Runs as fast as she can.
Here’s where we got lazy and the story takes on a more factual base.
She discovers that she does not have eyebrows anymore and must now paint them on. Not having eyebrows is seen as being of a low-class, which she is not a part of. Also she starts as a secret spy, helping the UK government catch bad guys that she remembers from the future.
She became beyond cool when we thought of this. I felt a little guilty knowing I hadn’t talked to her. Oh well.
Next is fencing. I have never fenced in my life. I have done archery and a very basic form of shooting, I think they gave us BB guns. Not exactly killing material. No fencing in there until yesterday.
It was a spectacular feeling. I felt the force was with me in the glove that held my sword (I have not learned the name of the sword yet.). I surprised them, and they thought that I had done this before. I hadn’t. I chalk up the ability to do the foot work and such from basketball, soccer and dance. Thank you guys so much.
However the thing that sticks in my mind is my first bout. He went ‘easy’ on me, but I was still pretty aggressive. My face guard pressed in on my face, making my newly pierced ear tingle in protest. My right wrist throbbed from being held in such an awkward position. My eyes were sharp and watched my opponent intently.
We faced off, saluting the judges. Getting into the ready position, I breathed evenly, calming myself. Even with my breathing calmly, my heart hammered in excitement. My muscles flexed and twitched, ready for action that I hadn’t used them for in a long time. I could almost hear my cells cheering as I joined a new sport, and not just going to the gym to get my exercise.
My opponent shuffled forward, I backed up a bit then attacked. He was going easy on me, but I wanted a challenge. I wanted to know what I could do on my first try. We exchanged blows, me scoring a point, point going to the opponent. Going back and forth for a good ten minutes. Finally my opponent landed the last touch. He had won. We bowed to each other, and shook hands. I was all smiles, pleasure racing through me as I remembered being an athlete. Oh how I had missed it. 
Rough Draft 