Time Traveling Tattoo (Fiction 101 Series)
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When she first applied the needle at the base of my neck, the tingling of her artwork filled my mind. An empty Victorian seat, a spinning disc, a set of glowing controls and a long brass lever appeared over the course of the next few hours. Every few minutes she blew on the ink. Finally, she flashed the image to me with a mirror. Her soft breath sent a shiver down my spine and back into my skull. Suddenly, I sat before two gentlemen discussing their work.
Startled, Jules swore in French.
Herbert exclaimed, “Arthur, you don’t seem to be yourself!”
~
(Click here to read the story from the other side of time.)
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