The Time-Traveler's Mansion

After receiving a stern warning from work, Armen finds himself in a forest instead of his office. He stumbles upon an 18th-century mansion, where he meets people celebrating the new year in 1820.

The morning sun burst through the kitchen window, illuminating everything in sight. As the world outside came to life, Armen groggily tossed aside his ragged blanket and let out a mighty yawn. He struggled to peel himself from the warmth of his bed, but he knew he had no choice. With great effort, he pulled himself up and splashed icy water on his face and hands. The thought of making breakfast made his stomach turn, so he decided to skip it altogether. As he checked his phone, he was met with a flood of urgent voice messages. He opened one and heard a stern warning: "If you're late again, don't bother showing up at all. We can't tolerate your incompetence any longer."

Without eating or even changing his shoes, Armen stumbled out the door and onto the familiar path to work. The streets were alive with the sounds of vendors hawking their wares and cars honking as they zoomed by. He impatiently hailed a taxi and hopped in, but he soon found himself nodding off from sheer boredom. When he finally woke up, he realized the driver had taken him to a forest instead of his office. Confused and a little scared, Armen decided to explore a bit.

As he wandered through the woods, he began to feel a chill in the air that didn't match the summer season. Suddenly, he stumbled upon an old mansion that looked straight out of the 18th century. With an inexplicable sense of curiosity, Armen pushed open the heavy door and stepped inside. To his amazement, the walls and decor were an explosion of vibrant colors and intricate designs. A sparkling pool lay at the center of the lush green lawn. Armen's jaw dropped as he surveyed the beauty before him.

As he took it all in, a woman in an old-fashioned dress and apron approached him with a friendly smile. "Sir, it's lunchtime. Come join us," she beckoned. Armen felt drawn to the group of people gathered in the dining room, all dressed in elaborate outfits straight out of a period drama. They laughed, sang, and chatted away in a language that Armen couldn't understand.

Feeling out of place, Armen approached one of the women and asked where he was. She looked at him like he was crazy and replied, "Why, this is the Countess's mansion! We gather here every year to celebrate the new year."

Armen's confusion only grew when he asked what year it was and she answered, "1820, of course!" He couldn't believe what he was hearing - had he somehow traveled back in time?

Desperate to understand what was happening, Armen followed the group as they explored the mansion. As they sat down for lunch, he marveled at the unfamiliar and exotic dishes before him. He couldn't believe they were eating off such exquisite plates and silverware - it was like nothing he had ever seen before. He had so many questions, but nobody seemed to notice or care about his confusion.

Armen couldn't believe his eyes when he saw Rachel, his ex-wife, sitting at the dining table with other women. It had been three long years since she left him, and the sight of her was like a punch to the gut. He tried to keep his composure and focus on the colorful food laid out in front of him, but his hunger vanished as his eyes kept darting back to Rachel.

As the women finished their meal, Rachel got up and motioned for Armen to follow her. He couldn't resist her gaze and reluctantly trailed behind her as she led him through a long corridor and down a stone staircase. The damp and chilly basement was a stark contrast to the warmth of the dining hall, and Armen's senses were overwhelmed by the sight and smell of the surroundings.

Rachel led him through a winding corridor and finally into a large room filled with small tables, jugs of wine and water, and colorful goblets. As they entered, the sound of running water filled their ears, but the source was nowhere to be seen. Armen's eyes roamed around the room until Rachel motioned him to follow her into a small room behind a stone.

To Armen's surprise, the room was filled with diamond boxes, beautiful jewelry, and old gold and silver coins. Rachel touched the cash registers and laughed loudly, saying, "Oh, Armen. Here is everything you want. Money, jewelry, coins. This treasure belongs to us, not just for our children but also for our grandchildren and great-grandchildren. You don't have to work that boring job with little pay anymore. We're rich now. Aren't you happy?"

Armen's eyes sparkled with joy, but he couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off. "Yes, I'm happy, but what makes me happiest is seeing you here. I missed you so much. It's true that you're younger and more beautiful than three years ago. I feel like I'm dreaming. So everything was a dream?" he asked Rachel.

Rachel kissed Armen on the cheek and looked at him in surprise. "What are you saying? You must have been dreaming. Remember, you always told me to live in a mansion? Well, here it is."

Armen couldn't believe what he was hearing. "But you left me three years ago because of our poverty. You said you couldn't bear my lack of money anymore. Didn't you say you were tired of our life?"

Rachel's laugh echoed in the small room. "Don't worry so much about time. Time passes. Sometimes we travel from the past to the future, and sometimes from the future to the past," she said as she handed him a necklace with a big diamond gem. "Come put this on my neck. I always loved this model of necklace, but you never bought it for me. Now, no more."

As the light of the diamond necklace hit Armen's eyes, he was momentarily blinded by its intensity. He closed his eyes to shield them from the light. When he opened them again, he was sitting in a taxi, confused and disoriented. The driver was looking at him with concern.

"We have arrived. Please open your eyes, sir," the driver said.

Armen looked around, noticing his expensive clothes and the diamond necklace in his hand. "Where is this?" he asked the driver.

The driver replied, "Don't you remember? You wanted to get off at the main square. Your wife Rachel is waiting for you at the restaurant on the other side of the street. Today is your 10th wedding anniversary."

Armen was speechless. Who was Rachel, and how did he end up in a taxi with an expensive suit and a diamond necklace?

Reviews

[wu]

Maybe he's a delusional diamond thief? ;)
I was captivated to continue to read, and left wanting more. Like you, I don't find it necessary to explain the mechanisms of time travel, but it's been said we time travel through memories and dreams. You wrote a good mix of that here. And your grammar is very good, something I still need help with. I'm not much of a critic so let me just say I liked it and leave it at that.

[Charlotte Flores]

Thank you so much for taking the time to read and review my story. I'm glad to hear that you were captivated by the story and left wanting more. It's always a great feeling to know that readers are engaged with the characters and the plot.

I appreciate your comment about the mechanisms of time travel. I agree that it's not always necessary to explain how it works, especially in a short story where the focus is on the characters and their experiences. I'm happy to hear that the mix of memories and dreams worked well for you.

Thank you also for the compliment on my grammar. I always try to ensure that my writing is clear and easy to understand. Your kind words mean a lot to me.

Once again, thank you for your review. I'm glad that you enjoyed the story and I hope to write more that will captivate and entertain you in the future.

Best regards,

[AYVID N]

Dear Charlotte,

This was just my kind of a story and your ideas here just delighted me. Rachel said something to the effect that time can trave both backward and forward and that left me so awed. If only we lived in the moment and regardless of time. If only time was fluid so such fairy tales could keep happening, mistakes corrected, precious people who were lost were found and all our dreams realized.

Armen was a hapless guy who perhaps couldn't handle so well the rigors of life and was probably at the tipping point when this incident happened and his fantasy came into play. I loved the journey into 1820 and delved into each lovely detail you described so imaginatively.

The conclusion was very intriguing because he returned to the present yet still had the jewels and the driver had a strange message for him. Because he didn't seem to know her.

Who was Rachel, indeed? Someone from his past life or present? Or was he delusional and lived at once in several realities? Or was it a past life he had forgotten all about and was transported there just for the sake of meeting her? The end threw up so many questions in my head. Such is the stuff a thrilling story is made of and you certainly did wonders here with it. I'd so love a sequel to this story.

[Charlotte Flores]

Dear Divya
Thank you so much for taking the time to read and review my story. I am thrilled to hear that you enjoyed it and that it resonated with you. Rachel's statement about time traveling both backward and forward is indeed an awe-inspiring concept, and I am glad that it left an impression on you.

I wanted to create a character in Armen who was relatable and who struggled with the challenges of everyday life. His journey into 1820 was a result of his vivid imagination, and I am glad that you appreciated the details and imagery I tried to convey.

I am delighted to hear that the ending left you with many questions and that it left you wanting more. The possibilities of who Rachel is and what her significance in Armen's life could be are endless, and I wanted to leave that open to interpretation for the reader. A sequel is certainly something to consider, and I appreciate your enthusiasm for one.

Thank you again for your kind words and for sharing your thoughts on my story. I hope to continue to create stories that captivate and inspire readers like you.

Best regards,

Charlotte

[AYVID N]

You're most welcome Charlotte. I'll return to read more of your posts. Looking forward to it.

[Richard🖌]

Hi, Charlotte,

Welcome to the Café … folk here simply call me Richard.
I'm only a poet, so my critique of your story may be a bit more unusual than you're used to, but I'll do my utmost best for you.
First, I read your story and completely enjoyed it. Next, your punctuation skills are far above average, which (to me) make for smooth, easy reading.
Truth is, your story captivated me to the point that critiquing incidentals became lost in the moments of its ambience. I had to return to gather my wits.
I'll utilize your first two paragraphs to emphasize helpful points that should serve your entire story. Thus, in the mind's-eye of a poet, there are far too many "filler" words that have little, if any, meaning; such as, "and" and "the" words and "other unnecessary verbiage," which tend to give writing a common, less than stellar appeal, let's say.
To illustrate this notion, let's dive right in … omissions will be in straight brackets.

[EDITING VERSION]
[The] Morning sun burst through the kitchen window, illuminating everything in sight. As the world outside came to life, Armen groggily tossed aside his ragged blanket, [and let] letting out a mighty yawn. He struggled to peel himself from [his] bed's warming comfort [the warmth of his bed], but [he] knew he had no choice. With great effort, he pulled himself up and splashed icy water on his face and hands. [The] Thoughts of making breakfast [made his stomach turn] turned his stomach; so, he decided to skip it altogether. [As he checked] Checking his phone [, he was] met with a flood of urgent voice messages. [He opened one and] Opening one, he heard a stern warning: "If you're late again, don't bother showing up at all. [We can't tolerate your incompetence any longer.] We'll no longer tolerate your incompetence!"

[Without eating or even changing his shoes,] Dressing quickly, Armen stumbled out [the door and] onto the familiar path to work. The streets were alive with [the] sounds of vendors hawking [their] wares and cars honking as they zoomed by. He impatiently hailed a taxi and hopped in, but [he] soon found himself nodding-off from sheer boredom. [When he finally woke] Finally waking, he realized the driver had taken him to a forest, instead of his office. Confused, [and a little] feeling a bit scared, but curious, Armen decided to explore his new, interesting looking surroundings.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[FINISHED EDIT]
Morning sun burst through the kitchen window, illuminating everything in sight. As the world outside came to life, Armen groggily tossed aside his ragged blanket, letting out a mighty yawn. He struggled to peel himself from bed's warming comfort, but knew he had no choice. With great effort, he pulled himself up and splashed icy water on his face and hands. Thoughts of making breakfast turned his stomach; so, he decided to skip it altogether.

Checking his phone met with a flood of urgent voice messages. Opening one, he heard a stern warning: "If you're late again, don't bother showing up at all. We'll no longer tolerate your incompetence!"

Dressing quickly, Armen stumbled out onto the familiar path to work. The streets were alive with sounds of vendors hawking wares and cars honking as they zoomed by.

He impatiently hailed a taxi and hopped in, but soon found himself nodding-off from sheer boredom. Finally waking, he realized the driver had taken him to a forest, instead of his office. Confused, feeling a bit scared, but curious, Armen decided to explore his new, interesting looking surroundings.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Charlotte, I hope something offered has helped with a better understanding or, at least, prompted creative ideas.
Thank you most humbly for allowing an opportunity to share something potentially helpful.

Bless you a most lovely day! ⁓ Richard

[Richard🖌]

Great title, and intro, BTW. : )