oute, I crossed the too-grand hallway and stepped out into the watery light of Midday."What the Hell...?"I almost dropped the carton in surprise. Perhaps shock would be more appropriate, but I realised howconfused my geography had become. Instead of exiting into the main carpark, I was in some smallersuch space, trees all along the distance, and a clutch of vintage vehicles all parked in rows before me.Of course! It struck me now that the dining hall must have been rented by some external organisation,perhaps for their annual dinner, and that regular students from the university had not been expected toattend. No doubt there was a poster up on some wall that I had not bothered to read, or flyer stuckunder my door that I had dumped straight into the recycling bin.I tried to work out where I was and supposed I must be at the South end of the building. The North endwas where the access to the main road was, whilst the East had the main carpark, and the West theinternal quadrangles which I had crossed on my way to the Old Library that time. I wished now that Ihad paid more attention to those parts of the campus that I had not had cause to go to, but it was a nullquestion really - I had not bothered because I had not gone there, and only a few weeks into the firstterm of my time here how could I be expected to have taken time off from study, drink or bands towander like a romantic poet looking up at the architecture?Those cars really were amazing! I knew that the carton would keep the food warm for far longer thanone might expect, so didn't worry about dawdling on my way back to my room. I walked across to thecars, making sure first that there was no old man in funny clothes and silver-tipped cane to ask mewhat I was doing. Presumably there was CCTV somewhere, but all I was doing was having a look, andthe tapes usually only got watched if some crime was committed - a fight in the main carpark theprevious week had been the last time. The rest of the time, some old geezer sitting in reception mightlook up at the camera feed once in a while, but would hardly stir himself unless he had a need to callSecurity."Hmm..." I thought I knew a lot about old cars. My father and his father, now sadly deceased these lastfew years, had been avid fans of veteran racing, and had gone out of their way to take me to museums,point out old cars to me in the street, and to announce, or often denounce, the makes of old cars used inreproduction dramas upon the television. A favourite theme of theirs had been that there were toomany posh cars in these shows, that the common, ordinary car that most people had owned, had beenbadly constructed and most had rotted away so that only the more sturdy higher class models remainedin the collections for use on the filmset. I smiled fondly at the memory of my grandpa saying that, thenlooked back to the vehicles in front of me.They were undutiably old, and in good condition, and if my father and grandfather's reasoning held outthey ought to be among those higher class vehicles that I had seen so much on television, and whichthe museums were full of. But they weren't"What's a Hooter?" I looked at the bulbous wings of the black car before me in confusion, "And aPhoenix?"It was painted red and gold, a garish choice perhaps but it worked on its fine trim lines, and oversizedheadlights. To my mind it ought to have been a Rolls Royce or perhaps a Napier, but it proudlyannounced that it was a Phoenix Imperator..."And a PIC ?" I said the initials, then tried "Pic?" but nothing stirred in my memory. This latter vehiclewas smaller, more of a runabout than a beast of power, and inside I could see on the back seat an openbook. I peeked in, hoping the old geezer was not paying especial attention to me on his cameras rightnow."The Age of Aggression by A E P Voigt" meant nothing to me, but was clearly a new book, the flycover resplendent in a picture of what seemed to be an uhlan, lancer at the ready, plumed helmet on hishead as he faced down a machine gun.
"Oops", I had leant so far in that my dinner was now pushing at the edge of the carton, leaking throughthe side as I forgot about it.It reminded me that I had better things to do than sneak around a carpark, and that I was probablypushing my luck with the CCTV. If I didn't move the old geezer would probably call Security on mejust to be on the safe side. With a final backwards glance at the vintage cars, I turned to the left andwhat my sense of direction told me must be the direction of the main carpark.Sense of direction be damned, I was thinking a couple of minutes later. This was nuts! I mustsomehow be around the back of the building, across the quadrangles and out the other side, the Westside of halls where I had never yet bothered to go. How I had got there from the dining room I did notknow, but maybe the library had stretched not along the main body of my side, but across the middle. Icould not see quite how, but if I had entered the dining room from the Western side, that would explainwhy I had not seen the grand staircase or the hallway before, and why now I found myself standing inan ornamental garden when I had been expecting to walk into the main carpark. Something wasnagging at the back of my mind, even so, but I decided to head up to the main entrance and...Oh, that was it! I leant back against a tree and considered my position. If I was on the Western side,then the main entrance ought to be to my left, but it was clearly to my right... If I was on the Westernside, to my right ought to be the South end, where I had just come from, but that was on my left? Hadsomebody given me some magic mushrooms or something the night before? I didn't think so, butperhaps if they had, maybe that was why Louise was so moody. Hell, a shiver went down my back -maybe she even thought I had plied her with them to get her into bed, though I sort of remembered ithad been her who was taking the lead on that. But would even magic mushrooms cause me this muchdisorientation? I had to be on the West side, nothing else was logical, but then why did the mainentrance seem to be to my right?"Oh to Hell with directions" I said. If I was disorientated then it was not going to solve itself bythinking about it. I stood up and headed down the quartz-strewn path towards the main entrance. Ipassed a tower set into the building that had to be the twin of my own. Presumably they had one oneach side to even out the building, though I knew that in some things the architect had been curiouslyasymmetrical. Not in this, though, it seemed.I rounded the corner, my brain telling me I was turning left, my mind telling me I must bedisorientated and really turning right from the West side into the main entrance... But what the Hellwas this?!"I think I'll eat this here" I said to myself.It must be the lack of food, some sort of light headedness. I sat upon a bench that I had never seenbefore and opened the carton, using my fingers to pick up the meat and vegetables, appalling tablemanners but who was looking. I drained the casserole by drinking from the carton, then placed it in anornate black and gold litter bin to the side, wondering what the initials F III R on its side might mean.Wiping my mouth on a handkerchief, I looked ahead of me and frowned. Alright, if this was the mainentrance and it seemed to be, then how had these ornate little lawns got here, why was the roadway sonarrow and curving out into the trees instead of the carpark that.....that ought to lie there, and why werethe golden gates up ahead open when everyone knew they had been closed for twenty years and themain egress was now the roadway through the wall...that was not now there...?"Oh.." it seemed appropriate to say it aloud.Was this what the university had looked like some many years ago? Had I somehow gained a vision ofit in the past? I didn't like to ask the other question, but it sat at the back of my mind mocking me - hadI somehow gone into the past, and was now sitting on a bench in the 1930s...maybe?A car swung off the main road, pulling in through the gates and slowing down as it made the turn intothe curving roadway.
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In MemoriamMAUREENMumLlyn Clywedog
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Special Cellar PacksBe ready for th
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Question 4Which other authors do yo
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Photograph by Sanuj Goswami
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that the king says would serve well
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1st January 1844New Year and still
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5th May 1845The 5th of May has no p
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against Japan. Quite how far they a
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23rd August 1849One is not certain
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7th November 1852If it is true it i
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There was no expectation on my part
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25th January 1856It is a sad irony
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Photograph by Sanuj Goswami
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I'm playing with colour, recreating
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One last colour sketch of this view
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Carnivore series by Swaroop Acharje
- Page 41 and 42: I thought I won't be writing at all
- Page 43 and 44: signed in a band and we had success
- Page 45 and 46: time we don’t remember the person
- Page 47 and 48: That night, at Hard Rock Café`, I
- Page 49 and 50: “I told you that I will hear your
- Page 51 and 52: We got out first night of solitude.
- Page 53 and 54: “It is beautiful. It is just beau
- Page 55 and 56: You know, how much I regret those d
- Page 57 and 58: It was then, I had an idea. I am no
- Page 59 and 60: She fell on the cold pavement with
- Page 61 and 62: “Piya na tole mohe, maan ka prem;
- Page 63 and 64: Poets’ CornerInnovate Update #5 f
- Page 65 and 66: The Lighting thief (Carnivore)So th
- Page 67 and 68: Domestic Sheople by Laura Cracknell
- Page 69 and 70: Grey WolfDumornia (The Last Sanctua
- Page 71 and 72: Brian G. DaviesPRETENDI don’t lik
- Page 73 and 74: On board United American Flight 817
- Page 75 and 76: As soon as Steve landed the Boeing
- Page 77 and 78: Remembering The Fallen of World War
- Page 79 and 80: ReviewsThe Lost City of Solomon and
- Page 81 and 82: Rocket Ship XMBelow is a review by
- Page 83 and 84: The Library by Grey Wolf - Parts 1
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- Page 89 and 90: The Library - Chapter TwoI carried
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- Page 96 and 97: It was good as a mental exercise, b
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- Page 102 and 103: "Ladies and gentlemen, please give
- Page 104 and 105: "How?" I pressed, knowing more than
- Page 106 and 107: money. I found myself on the grand
- Page 108 and 109: Elizabeth Audrey MillsLiz Mills was
- Page 110 and 111: K D RoseK.D. Rose is an author and
- Page 113 and 114: Advertshttp://kdroseworld.com/www.i
- Page 115: www.titanpublishinghouse.comTo adve
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