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For visually challenged writers, the image shows a balcony style stone window looking out over trees and a river.
Window – Image by KL Caley
The room felt eerily familiar. From that first step into the bay, Beth felt her skin tingle and the temperature drop.
The view was also something she recalled vaguely, but the trees were new, and somehow didn’t seem to belong on the river banks.
As she turned to her companions, the room span and she felt herself falling.
Suddenly she was dressed differently and seated on a cushioned chaise longue looking out of the window.
She felt strange, restricted in corsets and stays, her hair loose and free from the confines of plaits and tight ribbons.
She was alone, an untouched meal on the table with a napkin and fork, a pitcher of water and metal goblet alongside it.
The door to the chamber was closed and the silence overwhelming.
She stood, moved to the door and turned the ornate handle. It remained firmly shut.
She realised she was locked in, and shouted to be let out.
No-one heeded her cries, and she collapsed in a heap on the floor.
Gentle hands supported her and she looked into the concerned eyes of her fiance.
‘……………. she refused to eat or drink and her father found her dead on the seat by the window.’
Their guide finished the story of two lovers who had been betrayed, the man being sent to the gallows and the young woman locked in the tower where she died.
‘Get me out of here,’ she whispered.