“Oh my god, I never know how to answer that question. I mean, I never was any good at trying to figure stuff like that out — what difference does it make after all? I mean, who really cares, except for you of course. I didn’t mean to offend you, I hope you didn’t take it the wrong way. But really, does it really matter? I don’t see how it does. I really don’t.

In this whole adventure I was never so conscious of looking girly as at this moment. Maybe it was because we were standing in near darkness on the shoulder of a busy highway, and I could see my little twill skirt flutter in the wake from the passing cars. Maybe the fact that my uncle, who was only slightly taller than me, was on his knees before me, and for once, now that I was looking down into someone's face, I felt a stab of pity mixed with the joy of feeling (for once!) taller.

"I suppose it wouldn't help if I told you that this isn't a dream?"

"No," I said, and for the first time since I awoke, I laughed. "Nobody in my dreams thought that I was dreaming."

21. A Princess of Fischen

"I do have a talent for getting into strange situations," I admitted.

"I can see that!" Cakey replied, shaking the bars of my cage. "But don't worry. In the morning, as soon as the three of us are awake, I'm busting you guys out."

Farah and I went to bed that night wondering if we would find ourselves back in 1944 again. In spite of the first couple of times I had time-slipped, since then it seemed it was the bed that had acted as my “Tardis” to wartime.

‘Well, I guess he’s always thought I was a bit girly,’ I confided; ‘but he was never mean about it–unlike a lot of other boys.’

Mom froze. "Marcie Auburn?" she repeated cautiously. "Is there something you want to tell me, Marcie? You're not planning on eloping, are you? You're too young to get married... in fact, even if you were old enough, I don't think you could get married."

Charlotte’s Tale.
by Angharad.
Part 16.

"You know," Wiggy told me, "the way Robinson Crusoe realized he wasn't alone was that he found a footprint in the sand."

"That's kind of creepy," I said, looking around us.

"There might be a man on the island," Mirina said quietly.

"A good-looking man?" Cakey laughed.

"I'm starving!" Donkey shouted. "Boogers, what does this haggis stuff taste like, anyway?"

"I don't know," the cook replied, "but we'll find out soon!"

Mrs Johnson finished her tea and I followed her into the kitchen with my dirty cup. She rinsed them both out and popped them in the washer. “Right, young lady,” she said drying her hands, “let’s go and bath the baby.”

We waited... and waited... and waited. Then, at nearly the same moment, the longboat appeared at the end of the cove, and a red flare shot up into the sky from behind the hill.

"What does that mean?" Cakey asked.

"I'm not going to put cooking oil on my head," Donkey said. "I'll break out in a thousand zits and smell like french fries."

"The boys will love that," Ding-Dong joked. "They'll all be sniffing after you."

Wiggy growled in anger and frustration, "Arrgh! ARRGH! I am going to KILL Belle Dubois! I'm going to kill her! I swear!"