The time traveller

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The time traveller

January 11, 2017
This disheveled little owl sat down at her usual writing desk at the John Oxley Library yesterday and looked out through the wall of windows and across the river to where the city sat in all its summer hotness. She put her earplugs into her ears (because noise is especially noisy in quiet spaces) and returned to her characters' business outside the gates of Cardiff Castle. (In 1840.) There was much researching and then, she discovered an old painting of Cardiff's town hall. (In 1835.) It showed a view looking back to the town hall from the castle gates and it was EXACTLY THE PERSPECTIVE SHE WAS WRITING ABOUT. Thinking this was terrific (and a little spooky) she looked up and around the room and wondered whether a (little) hoot announcing her discovery would be appropriate. But then, all the people around her were sitting like statues and staring at their screens and deep-thinking and the man with the white beard sitting at his usual desk and the man with the muscled chest sitting at HIS usual desk both had whisper-fine ideas floating around their heads. (Just like mist.) (And so she kept her hoot to herself.)