“I told you, Ed, we shouldn't have gone out tonight. Do you see how bad the roads are? They're only going to get worse driving home.”

“Everything is going to be fine, Rosemary. You just worry too much. It's the first time we've gotten everyone together since adding John as a partner in the business. From what I hear his wife, Margaret is a nice gal.”

“Do they have any kids my age, dad?” I ask from the backseat of our station wagon. I'm rather used to being ignored in the car. It is like this shield goes up and I'm suddenly invisible. My parents are keen on bickering in the car, no matter where we're going.

“Yes, Kitty, they have a son who is about two years younger than you.” The annoyance in my father's voice gives me enough cause not to say anything else.

My parents still treat me like a child. I know I still live at home, but I'm about to start my second year of college. I know being an only child makes it harder for them to let go. But it is 1954; times are changing. It is not like I even wanted to come tonight. I would rather have stayed home and watched American Bandstand. My mother wouldn't even reason with me, she said if she had to go, so do I.

“Here we go. See, Rosemary, we made it, safe and sound. Now let's get in, we're late and I'm starving.”

When we walk in, the hostess ushers us to a round table, where everyone else is already sitting. They all have drinks, chatting happily, laughing at some joke Mr. Jenkins made. That is Father's partner. They've been such for almost twelve years. Now that the law firm has gotten bigger, they've added a new partner. His name is Mr. Lawson, he is younger than both my dad and Mr. Jenkins by at least ten years, but comes highly recommended. He is smart, handsome and knows what he is doing in the courtroom.

“It is so nice to meet you both, Rosemary and Katheryn. You're husband speaks often about you while at work. You know, when we're not slaving away on the pavement.”

My mother, who is usually a stone, seems to be all putty with Mr. Lawson's compliments, almost swoon worthy. Father doesn't seem to notice it, I do and find it funny.

“We've heard quite a bit about you too. Please, call me Kitty, though. Katheryn is only when I get in trouble.” I flash both my parents a cheesy smile, causing everyone to laugh.

As the dinner goes on, it is clear everyone is going to get along just fine. We spend a great deal of time with the Jenkins family. They have a daughter, Jenny, who I'm really close with and a son, Fred. He is just a year older than I am, but is now in the Army. I remember the day he told us about it. Dad wanted us to have a barbecue, but it was suppose to rain. My father was certain the rain would hold out, that my mother, as usual was being a worrywart. Just as we were sitting down to eat, the rain started to down pour, thunder quickly followed. When we all started to scurry around saving the food, Fred announces 'I've joined the Army.'

Just like that, blurts it out. We all stop, stare at him for a moment, waiting to see if he is serious. I'm pretty sure it takes all a good minute to realize he is, hurrying over to him, forgetting the food and hug and congratulate him.He's always had a passion for the Army, even when he was much younger. It didn't shock me too much he actually joined. He writes me letters any chance he can, telling me how much he loves it.

By the time we're done our meal, everyone seems to be in high spirits. My mother seems rather taken with both Mr. and Mrs. Lawson, making plans for them to join our summer plans. I liked getting to know their son, though we don't have a lot in common. Jenny seems to especially like him, much more her type. I can even see them possibly dating. Mr. Lawson convinces my dad to pay the bill, fighting my father tooth and nail on the subject. My dad does finally give in, when he knows he can't win, saying he'll get the next one.

For the first time in God knows how long, my parents don't fight in the car. They're happily chatting about the dinner, talking about what the future is going to hold for them now. I don't join in on the conversation, not wanting to break the happy moment. It is much colder than it was when we arrived, the snow coming down harder. Even though my dad is driving at a safe fifteen mile per hour, not even one else is. That's when it happens, I see highlights, coming right towards us.

“Dad! Watch out!”

It is suddenly cold, dark, peacefully quiet.

***

“Ma'am, wake up. You can't sleep here. This is a public bench.” The tapping on my arm continues, until my eyes flutter open.

It hurts to have them open. It is so bright that I feel as if I've gone blind by it. It takes a second to focus on the man in front of me. He begins to take shape and form, I notice he is a police officer. For some reason that shakes me wake enough to sit upwards.

“Uh, I'm sorry. I don't know how I got here. I apologize.”

Looking away from him, I scan the surrounding area. I can tell I'm in some sort of park, there are people everywhere, talking to each other, reading, walking their dogs. The trees and grass are so green it's magical. Something seems wrong though, what is everyone wearing? There are so many people dressed with little clothing on. This place is not like home at all.

“A little too much to drink last night, lady? Don't let it happen again.”

“I certainty don't drink. Can't you tell me where I am?” The concern in my voice is growing more worrisome. I don't know where I am, or who anyone is, or what is going on.

The officer looks at me again, but says nothing as he rolls his eyes. He must not believe me when I say I wasn't drinking. He walks away, replacing his baton back in its place. I'm just left here sitting, with all these questions. I take a few deep breaths, trying to recall what is the last thing I do remember. Now that I'm able to focus on everything, it all starts to fall back into place.

The car, the storm, my family, the high beams. It must have been an accident, but how did I end up here? Not that I even know what here is. That doesn't even matter, it is clearly summer time, though the last thing I recall it was winter. And where are my parents? Are they okay? Am I okay? I am losing my mind!

“Hey, I'm Ryan. Don't mind the cop. He likes to be a jerk, he thinks it makes him look cool or something. He's probably seen too many Bruce Willis movies. I mean, come on now, it is 2015, give it a rest, right? The last one flopped so badly, people should have been paid to go see it.”

Did I just hear him right? 2015, how is that even possible? Is this all a prank? It can't be 2015, it is 1954. If I were in 2015, I'd be ninety something years old. This is absurd.

“You know what, I'm already having a bad enough day without someone trying to pull my leg. How can it possibly be 2015? If you're some kind of crazy, just go be crazy elsewhere.” I'm angry now, the police officer was rude enough, now I have some loony trying to tell me it is another year. As if I've time traveled through space and time and wound up seventies years in the future.

“I'm sorry. I'm just trying to help. I was going to offer you this water. I just bought it and thought you looked like you needed it more than I do. As for the year, lady, it has been 2015 for six months now. You might as well get used to it. No going back now.”

He doesn't lose his cool, he states his facts calmly, not fazed at my rudeness towards him. He hands my his water, and I can't help but take it. I crack open the seal and drink the whole thing down. It feels like it has been ages since I've had anything to drink. My mother would kill me if she knew I had taken anything from a stranger.

“I'm truly sorry for being rude. I've been in a car accident. But that doesn't change the year. It is 1954, and it is not June, it is December 28th, 1954.”

“That was some car accident, to send you forward about seven decades. Look around you, does it look like it is the fifties. We're sitting in Central Park, the best place in New York city and it just so happens to be the prettiest days this year so far."

His outlook on everything is so causal. Not in the lazy, I don't give fiddlesticks about life way, but positive way, go with the flow mindset. It makes me feel like I can trust him. He is warm, this gentle kind of soul, but one who looks like he can handle himself, if he had to. Tall and lanky, his legs go on forever. He has his ankles crossed, leaning back on the bench, with his arms folded across him, simply soaking in the day.

“Do you always just come waltzing up to people and talk so comfortably with them, as if you've known them all your life?”

“Hmm, no, not always. Just when I think their pretty and in need of help, I suppose. I like to help people.”

“You like the damsel in distress kind of girl, do you?”

“Actually, not really. I mean, if she's in distress, and needs help, I'll help. But I like a girl who can hold her own too, ya know?”

“I can hold my own, as you put it. Though I do need help. Firstly though, hi. I don't mean to be rude. I'm Katheryn, but please, call me Kitty. Now, look, I'm going to tell you something out of this world, but I need you to believe me and then help me. Can you do that? I know it is asking for a lot, but you're the one who sat down.”

I can't explain why I'm going to tell him everything. I just know I'm not dreaming or making this up. I need to open up to someone, because I can't do this alone. It is real, I've traveled somehow to another time and place. I'm from Connecticut, not New York. How did I end up here, if not from time travel or maybe I'm dead and I don't know it. I doubt that, since people are talking and looking at me.

“So far, I have to say, this is the best way I've started a morning in a long time. I will try my best to keep an open mind and even help, if I can. Let's hear it.”

No matter how much I know something odd has happened, I still feel a little silly telling him. I suck it up and start from the beginning. I don't break eye contact, wanting to read everything he hears, to see if he believes me. I keep as calm as I can, but by the end, I have tears streaming down my cheeks.

“That is the most unbelievable story I've ever heard and for some reason I believe every word. I don't know how to help, but I'm going to try. Let's go back to my place and we can Google your name, I'll order in food too. You must be famished.”

“What is a Google? I don't know what that is, but food, food sounds perfect. Golly, now that you mention it, I can feel my stomach rumbling.”

“I thought as much, it's been growling since I sat down. I figured you were either hungry, or a monster was trying to escape from inside you. Which would be totally bad ass, but messy and awkward.”

“Heavens! I have never...”

He cuts me off, laughing, “and by the way, Google is a search engine. You know, the internet?”

“What is the internet?”

“Oh dear girl, you have lots to catch up on.”

As we're walking back to his apartment, he explains to me what the internet is. It takes him several tries for me to understand it. He never seems to get frustrated or annoyed with my understanding of his world. He seems to enjoy explaining this all to me. He's very animated, excited like a puppy in the way he tells me all these wonderful things. That is on top of all the new things I see as we're walking. He explains cell phones, the new trending clothing style, he tells me about odd music like rap and dubstep. So many new things for me to learn, to grasp and understand. It really is a whole new world to me.

Once we get to his place, we take several flights up to his floor. Once we do, he unlocks his door and leads me in. It isn't a huge place, but it is comfortable for one person. It is one big room, except for the bathroom. He says it is called a studio apartment. You can clearly see where each section begins and ends. He has taken the time to make the place look nice. Of course I have many questions, with every new thing I see. Laptop, game console, I even envy how thin his TV is.

“Why do you have a photo of buildings in your apartment, when you live in New York? Every which way you look are tall buildings,” I ask of him, while studying the photo, curious as to why this one is special.

“You've ooh'd and ahh'd everything so far, except maybe the skimpy clothing, but this, this isn't a good story.”

He sits us down on his sofa, and begins to tell me about something that happened in September 2001. How terrorists hijacked planes and flew them into buildings. The ones they took down were here in New York, called the Twin Towers. Apparently they were well known. Though I, of course, never heard of them. They also attacked the Pentagon. In total, they killed nearly three thousand people. The President at the time decided to go to war. One in which we lost many, many more lives.

I cry, until I feel as though I can't cry ever again. Ryan holds me in his arms, stroking my hair and tells me everything is going to be all right. I know I'm not just crying about the history lesson, knowing this is the kind of future that is coming, or has come. It is so confusing when I think about it. I'm also crying for my parents, for the fact I'm lost or confused. It's all too much. Ryan doesn't seem to be annoyed with my crying. Not like most men would be from where I'm from. They always seem so uncomfortable when a woman cries. I tell this to Ryan and he laughs, telling me he isn't like most men. I can clearly see that for myself.

Once he knows I'm okay, that the tears are all dried up, he orders Chinese food. It is my choice, between pizza and Chinese, but since I've had pizza, I went with the latter. I might as well try as many new things as I can. What happens if I pop up in a new place the next time I wake up?

We don't bother with the internet, Ryan says I've been through enough for the moment. I should relax, watch a movie, eat, take my time. I'm a little uneasy about it, but I agree with him.

“Don't you work?” I ask bluntly, as he finds a movie for us to watch.

“Of course I do. Well, I'm trying. I work as a painter. Nothing fancy, just painting buildings. Inside and out. It seems to be rather popular, too many people trying to do the same thing. I'm basically on call, waiting for my boss to text me, telling me I've gotten a job.”

“What is a text? How can you afford to live like that?”

“I told you about the text. You do it on your phone, remember? I still get paid for being on call, just not nearly as much as I do when I'm on a job. It has only been a few weeks since work has slowed down. It will pick back up again in no time. I have faith.”

We watch a movie called The Green Mile, that has me so enthralled. I'm from the 50's, sitting here in 2015, watching a film based in the 1935. It has me asking so many questions, Ryan answering them all. He tells me about all the changes for the black community. How a man named Martian Luther King Jr helped with the movement to get them their rights, with many others helping too. It takes a village, you know? Ryan tells me that Martin Luther King Jr was murdered in the process of it all.

It hurts to know that there are so many evil people in the world. I already knew this, my world isn't perfect either. He cheers me up by telling me that we have a black president, our first ever. He is in his second term.

A man named Barack Obama. It does make me happy, to know that even though a lot of bad has happened, a lot of good has happened in the last few decades.

For the rest of the day, we watch more movies and talk about how different our worlds are. We laugh at everything, joke about silly things. I feel more comfortable with Ryan than anyone I have ever have before. Not even my own parents. Of course I have friends, ones I trust and feel comfortable with, but it just isn't the same as I do with Ryan. I've had a few boyfriends when I was back in high school too. I was never truly in love with them, though I thought I loved the last one.

He was popular, cute and all the girls wanted to date him. For some reason, he picked me. Everyone knew who we were. I hated all the attention really, it got to be overwhelming. Because I thought I loved him, we had sex. It was only once, it was horrible. It barely lasted more than a few minutes. He didn't do anything to make sure I was enjoying myself too. After that, I decided to hold off on dating and having sex until I finished school.

“Is it okay if I go to bed?” I ask suddenly, feeling as though I'm about to pass out. It has been a long day.

“Of course! I shouldn't have kept you up so late. You can take the bed, I'll sleep here on the sofa. I don't mind.”

I'm about to argue with that, telling him he has done enough for me, I shouldn't be taking his bed too. The look on his face says it all, I'd lose even if I tried. It doesn't matter anyway, I'm too exhausted to insist on taking the sofa. I thank him, moving to the bed I lie down and fall asleep right away. 

***

When I do wake up, it is only because I hear a loud noise outside. I'm startled awake, feeling like the whole building is going to come crashing down around me. I sit up, regretting it right away. I feel a wave of dizziness take over me, lying back down I let the spins sort themselves out. I'm fine within a few minutes, once I sit up again I feel fine. It is then I notice a blanket on me, my shoes are off and there are towels sitting on a chair by the dresser.

Getting up, I walk over to the towels and see he has put one of his shirts on top of it too. It is not ideal, but it is better than putting on my clothes from yesterday. In the bathroom, I swear I'm in there for hours. I let the water run over me for a long time, before I use Ryan's soaps to wash. I even use his toothbrush to brush my teeth. It helps a lot, once I'm done, I feel as though I can tackle anything.

That is exactly what I do once Ryan wakes up. He makes us coffee and shows me how to use this thing called Google. It only leads to bad news. It talks about the night of the car accident. The article says that my parents made it out okay, but there is no mention of me. In another article, it says my parents passed away in the late 70's, my mother from pneumonia and my father from a heart attack. The mixture of confusion and heartache soar through me. I try not to let it get to me, trying to search more for answers about me.

I Google my name, but there is no mention of me anyway. As if I've never alive. I find the number to the county I was born in, calling them, I ask them about my birth certificate, but they have no record of it. There is literally no trace of me anywhere. I feel incomplete, the more I try to find, the less I feel real. But that isn't possible. Did I make up the whole thing? Am I insane?

Ryan doesn't let me give up. Over the next few days, in between sight seeing, we keep looking, figuring things out. Though we don't find out anything, I enjoy my time with him. He insists on buying me some clothes, so I am not forced to wear all his. We go to a used clothes shop, buying vintage pieces, closer to my style. He says I look retro. It makes me feel a lot more comfortable wearing my own style and not what so many woman wear nowadays.

He brings me to see the Statue of Liberty, Time Square, and several food places. I must have gained at least five pounds with all the food I've been eating. I have to admit, that yes, I am worried about being in the wrong decade, but Ryan makes it better. Even when his boss texts him to work, he brings me along. I've never worked before, it is a lot of fun. At least with him it is.

It would be a lie to deny that I wasn't falling in love with. I know that I am. It is something I've never felt before. He is so open and smart, funny, caring, and out of this world sexy. He has never gotten angry or annoyed with me, with all my endless questions about his time. He loves listening to me talk about mine. We often compare our worlds.

Sometimes it is hard to think of my time, more so knowing there is no record of me being alive. Not then, not now. We've searched high and low for any sign of Katheryn Daisy Lane, even using my shorten name Kitty. But to no avail. Ryan even convinces me to see a doctor, who runs simple tests. You know, the urine, blood and such kind. Everything comes back fine. The doctor tells me I am healthy as a horse.

“I just don't get it. You know? How can I be as healthy as the doctor claims, but know I've been in an accident. How can I not have any sort of record of my being real? If I'm stuck here, how am I going to explain that? What sort of life can I have if this is the case?”

“Whoa, slow down, Kitty. We're going to figure something out. I know we will. I might not know how just yet, but we can't give up the hope. It's only been a few weeks, there isn't a rush.”

“This isn't meant to be harsh, but it is a big deal. A few weeks is a long time to me. My life is has been ripped from me and now I'm forced to live another. Yes, I've had a fantastic time here, to learn all that I have, to know you, to fall in love with you, all of this. It's almost magical, but there is that underlying fear I don't belong here.”

Unable to hold them back, I begin to sob. Tears streaming down my face, wiping them away, enraged with myself for crying again. It seems it is all I do when I let myself think too much of my problems.

“Wait, you what? What did you say?” Ryan pulls my hands into his, looking at me, with confusion, but with happiness it seems.

It takes me a moment to realize what I've said and when it clicks I gasp, trying to pull my hands back to hide my face. I'm embarrassed I let that slip out, wanting to hide away from the world. How could I have possibly admitted that to him?

“It's true,” I admit to him. “You're like no man I've ever met. I tried to tell myself not to, but how can I not, with as much time as we've spent together. It's too soon, it is silly I know, but it doesn't change the fact that I am.”

Ryan says nothing, instead his mouth seals over mine, consuming my lips and tongue with a heated frenzy. My hands crawl up his his back, into his hair. I can feel his hard, defined muscles against my chest. I want to run my nails over his body, aching to discover more about him. His pace is slow, thorough with his touch. Cupping my breasts, my nipples stand to attention, as he flicks lightly at them. He squeezes with just the right amount of roughness I need of him, causing me to sigh out in pleasure.

One of his hands moves down, tracing over my thigh. He teased me tons when all I bought were skirts, I'm thinking now he is grateful. At this point, I want whatever is about to happen, to happen. His touch is fire against my skin, I fidget under his caress wanting more of the burn. I'm greedy to his inferno touch. My insane craving for him.

And then suddenly his fingers are on me, pushing aside the thin material of my panties. My nerves are on edge, anticipating what is to come. With his thumb, he caresses me with ease against my bud. Circling over it with a skilled mixture and gentle touch. Soft, sweet feather like touches. I'm already writhing with an unhinged need.

“Your sounds are driving me crazy, Kitty. You mewl so cutely,” he whispers this into my ear, the breath of his words tickle my skin.

He moves his finger down, slipping inside me, I cling to him, holding my breath now, he only keeps it there for a moment. Before he drags my juices up and over my clit, then back down he slips back inside me. His thumb continues to work on my clit as his finger plunges in and out of my with a slow rhythm. When I think I can't take it anymore, he moves off of the sofa, pulls off my panties and replaces his thumb with his tongue.

It swirls in figure eight motions over me, sucking on my clit, lapping at my folds, now with two fingers inside me. His skilled fingers plunge in and pulling out in long, steady strokes, as he sucks and licks at my cleft. I feel a sensation that no one has given me before, not even the man I lost my virginity to, sobbing out, every emotion that has built up in the last few weeks is intertwined in this very moment.

The ripple of my orgasm overtakes me, all my muscles tightening, my core clenching around his fingers. He still feeds on me, lapping up the evidence of my ecstasy, caressing my tender nerves with his tongue, with endless devotion. Unintelligible sounds escape my lips, but he doesn't stop until I do. He comes up to me, kissing me fully, his tongue exploring my mouth, I wrap my arms around him.

With ease, he lifts me and with a few strides, he moves to the bed, placing me gently upon it. I wiggle out of my clothing, watching him do the same. I've seen him shirtless now, but this is the first time I seen him fully naked. With a narrow waist, lean hips, and long, muscular thighs, my heart palpitates, stronger by the minute.

As he comes down towards me, towering over me like a giant, his smile reassures me. I breathe in short bursts, my gaze locked on his delicious face, those incredible lips, sending the core of my being in maximum overdrive. Lacing my fingers into his hair, we kiss once more, my legs naturally wrap around him, as if they have a mind of their own. His hard body pressing against me firmly, I can feel his harness pushing right up next to my sex.

He's the first one to move, adjusting his hips, working blindly, all by feel, to find his safe haven. He finds the comfort we both seek, sliding into me, pushing through until he bottoms out. It is only then, do I begin to move my hips, circling in a small, gentle way. His joins me, taking us both on an adventure.

All our movements are sensual, perfect and needy. His lips explore my face, kissing my chin, cheeks, eye lids, moving down over my neck, suckling on my ear lobes. As if he can't get enough of my taste. It is all so much, the passion and love I feel is thundering through me. Soft moans and gasps with all I'm feeling are escaping me on their own accord. My hands roam, feeling every curve, dip, soft touch of his flesh. I want to memorize it, but it clicks to me he must be doing the same thing. This causes me to fall more in love with him.

When my legs begin to quiver, my nails dig into his back, he hisses in pleasure, looking me in the eyes. He knows, he feels me tighten, his lips come down once more, kissing me. I clench him securely around me, as we both begin to feel the effects of my orgasm. Rippling, like a tidal wave, I squeeze him. Ryan keeps his pace, steady and deep, grunting every so often, until he erupts with me. Pouring his seed inside me, pumping a little harder to empty it all. The fire that runs through me is the purest pleasure I've ever felt. He collapses on to me, kissing gently on my chest, as I stroke his hair.

“Just so you know,” he voice is so light, gentle against my skin, it's as if he is imprinting them onto me, “I'm in love with you too.” He wraps his arms around me, rolling us so he lies on his back. I'm nestled into him, close, resting my head on his chest now.

“I may not know how or why I got here, but I certainly don't regret it.”

Loving strokes, gentle kisses, soft embraces, we stay like this for the rest of the night, until we both drift to sleep. Though it isn't as peaceful as I think it will be.

I see bright flashes, voices whispering to me, they're pleading with me. But, I can't make out the words, I struggle to though. I try to speak back, to get their attention. I can't see anything but darkness, except for the flashes occasionally. I start to run, run towards where I see the flashes. They get brighter, lasting longer.

“That's it, you can do it, Kitty.”

“We're here, don't give up.”

“Please, don't give up. We need you.”

The voices start to become more clear, urging me towards the light. They don't stop, but it feels as though I'm running in slow motion. I can't help it, no matter how little it makes sense, it feels as though I am meant to follow the voices, to and through the light.

“Just open your eyes, baby. You can do it. I believe in you.”

My father! It is the sound of my father's voice. I begin to run faster, screaming for him. Though no sounds come out. I cry out, weeping for him.

“Yes, oh, that's my girl. Come on, let me see those eyes.”

My mother! Now I can hear her too. The darkness begins to fade, emerging into the brightness. I struggle to focus my sight, it hurts. Blinking several times, trying to adjust so I can see properly. It is an outline, but I see my parents. Hovering over me, tears in their eyes, but smiling.

It takes a few more minutes until I can see better. I try to speak, but I can't. There is something in my mouth.

“Shh, don't try to talk, baby. There is a tube in your mouth, to help you breath,” my mother urges me to calm down.

“Honey, you've been in a coma for the last six months. We weren't sure if you were going to make it, but we couldn't give up. We knew you were strong enough to come back to us.”

Everything feels like a dream, I'm confused. The words are floating around me, as I try to place them. The car accident, the headlights, the snow storm, the dinner, it all starts to fall back into place. I feel the tears burn and well up in my eyes, knowing my parents are okay.

A pretty, young nurse comes in, she chats with me about everything that has gone on in the last several months. The way she talks to me, acting as if we know each other. It is a comfort, she makes me smile once she removes my breathing tube. She is not much older than I am, so she knows all the right things to talk about. Going on about how the doctor will be in soon to tell me about all the boring medical things I've gone through these past few months.

Once she leaves, my parents tell me how dad broke his arm, and was in a cast for almost two months. Mother only had minor scrapes and one broken rib. The impact of the car was on the drives back side, which is where I was sitting.

My father tries to blame himself, for the way he swerved, to get out of the way. I hug him tightly, reassuring him it is not his fault and I don't blame him. That we're all alive and safe now.

There is a light knock on the door, before any of us have a chance to say come in, the doctor moves in.

“Hi, Katheryn, prefers to be called Kitty, I'm Doctor Jones, it is a pleasure to meet you.”

He strides up to the side of my bed, comforting smile, that reminds me of someone I know. It takes me a minute, shaking my head in confusion, knowing it isn't possible.

“Ry... Ryan?” I stutter his name, looking up at him. A fresh new set of tears begin to spill down my cheeks.

“Hey, who told you? Good guess.”

Is it possible? Did I time travel? How is he here now, how is he my doctor? My memory is hazy, I can't remember anything but him. Just him. His face, his smile, his voice, how I feel in love with him. Now here he is, as my doctor.

...Is this even real?

Written By Poppet: For LushStories ONLY!