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Date Posted: 20:51:34 10/21/13 Mon
Author: Jorgen Nasche
Subject: .Timeless.
In reply to: Ann Hemming 's message, ".Timeless." on 21:51:29 10/17/13 Thu





____‡_______‡___
Keep the earth below my feet
For all my sweat, my blood runs weak
Let me learn from where I have been
Keep my eyes to serve
My hands to learn

____‡_______‡___


His bare chest rose and fell rapidly as he peered between the strange woman and the space where the strange machine had passed by, and then back again. He showed no signs of modesty, even fully alert. The world he had come from had afforded him no such luxury...he barely noticed his own nudity at any given time. Much less a time filled with so much terror... so much confusion. Just what kind of person was this woman? Where did she come from, and what did she want? Was she the reason behind his current whereabouts...wherever they might be?

Hope flickered like a fresh cool breeze in his heart. Was it possible that the camp guards had thought him dead? Had dumped him somewhere for the rats to munch? That was not common practice...Jorgen knew that much. He had seen far too many extinguished souls be carted away, buried in mass unmarked graves. But, from what little he had been able to decipher of the hushed conversations in the laboratory halls, it had seemed the war was beginning to turn in favor of the Allies. Wasn't it possible, then, that the Germans were growing careless?

And then, she spoke...and all hope was shattered.

For a moment, anyway.

Until it dawned on him that her words were English...and her accent was purely American! She was American! His wide, coffee colored gaze locked with hers, and he began to nod vigorously. "English, yes! I can!" His accent was incredibly thick, but his words were understandable with the proper attention. Once, what seemed like a lifetime ago, Jorgen had made it his business to become fluent in English. It had been a small dream to practice Medicine in America...long before the war had burnt away all dreams.

He scrambled toward her then, like a drowning man reaching for a floatation device. "Please, please!" He all but gasped, reaching for her wrists, her knees, anything he could gain purchase on. "You must help! You must! They will kill me if they find I am gone! Hide me, hide me please! Take me to your camp! I beg of you!" It had never crossed Jorgen's mind that he might be much farther from home than he had anticipated. A continent away...and no longer in the same century as the one he'd left.


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