A Stone’s Throw Through Time
I ejected before my plane hit the ground, the explosion showing a stone circle beneath me. My parachute slowed my descent. I felt a wave of dizziness, my head sticky where I’d hit the console; I was unconscious before I landed.
I awoke to find a young woman leaning over me in the bright morning light, mopping my face with a rag. Her matted hair hung loosely around her shoulders, beautiful clay patterns decorated her face and arms.
Everything was different now. Wattle and daub straw-thatched huts surrounded the henge. My plane… vanished. I definitely wasn’t in my time anymore.