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The Victorian Era
#WritcoStoryChallenge
The painting was yellowed with rounded edges. It was a masterpiece and it was lying in my hand. Wait, have I stolen it? I don't remember...
I looked around,holding the painting. I could hear faint noises. A song. People chatting. I began walking towards the sound. It grew louder with every step taken. The hallway was filled with photographs and painting that perfectly illustrated The Victorian Era.
A huge, white ballroom was laid in front of me. Carvings that could tell generations of stories were made on the huge pillars. Sculptures stood tall and still. The ceiling was high, ancient Roman or Greek style. Chandeliers were put. Below them were men tossing hats, swaying their frock coats and inviting women for a dance. Women were lifting their dress with their right hand,placing the other on the man's and dancing to the melody of a song. The song over powered the little talks and jokes among the people. Drinks were being served and taken. They were walking and talking the high class way.
It seemed like the Victorian Era. Or was I in the Victorian Era? Nothing made sense. Was I dreaming? Maybe I was to engrossed in the project regarding the Victorian Era. This can't be real. Or can it? NO! I am dreaming I internally screamed.
A man approached me. He tossed his hat and gave a formal smile. He wore a white shirt with high collars, topping it of with a bow. His black frock coat reached down to his knees. It maybe mid 1800s?
Retrieving from my thoughts I smiled at him. I must look like an idiot in my grey sweatpants and casually tucked in plain white t shirt, holding the paint.
He extended his hand. A handshake? Is he inviting me to dance? He touched the painting I was holding. Oh! he wants tthe painting. I gave him the painting. He looked at it with great admiration. "Beautiful, for its it's been painted by the most amazing painter of all. The Queen's very own painter; Antonio".
He had beautiful onyx eyes. His black hair was tied back. His jawline was sharp and well defined. His lips looked soft, kissable.
Just a matter of seconds, I was walkign down a hallway with him. It had beautiful sculptures. He led me to a balcony. The balcony devoured us with the view of the Victorian city. Few lights were lit while the sun was bidding its goodbye. Men walked home while vendors were in a hurry to close. Children were called inside. Smell of food flooded the atmosphere and reached us. I was really in the Victorian Era. I had been researching about it for a while now for a project.
"For this fair lady looks like you". He caught my attention. My eyes shifted to the painting. I hadn't looked at it thoroughly. Just the colors. And the lady looked like me. She looked soft and gentle. Her voice must be music under the breeze. She must have graceful and delicate movements.
A flower kept on her right ear caught my attention. It was the same flower that was in the old diary I found in the basement few days ago.
"What caught those eyes?"
I shook my head as no.
"Now, a lady doesn't do that. Where are you from? Who are you?"
He raised his brow at me. He looked stern now.
I was scared. Sweat built up on my forehead. My fingers intertwined, going against and with one another. I wanted to wake up. Without a second thought I ran inside the building, blindly.
But, what I didn't know was he knew it. He knew everything I didn't know. He had answers that I will never get.
#writco #mystry #victorianera #writcostorychallenge #story
#writcostory #WritcoPrompt #write
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comment me on how I can improve
The painting was yellowed with rounded edges. It was a masterpiece and it was lying in my hand. Wait, have I stolen it? I don't remember...
I looked around,holding the painting. I could hear faint noises. A song. People chatting. I began walking towards the sound. It grew louder with every step taken. The hallway was filled with photographs and painting that perfectly illustrated The Victorian Era.
A huge, white ballroom was laid in front of me. Carvings that could tell generations of stories were made on the huge pillars. Sculptures stood tall and still. The ceiling was high, ancient Roman or Greek style. Chandeliers were put. Below them were men tossing hats, swaying their frock coats and inviting women for a dance. Women were lifting their dress with their right hand,placing the other on the man's and dancing to the melody of a song. The song over powered the little talks and jokes among the people. Drinks were being served and taken. They were walking and talking the high class way.
It seemed like the Victorian Era. Or was I in the Victorian Era? Nothing made sense. Was I dreaming? Maybe I was to engrossed in the project regarding the Victorian Era. This can't be real. Or can it? NO! I am dreaming I internally screamed.
A man approached me. He tossed his hat and gave a formal smile. He wore a white shirt with high collars, topping it of with a bow. His black frock coat reached down to his knees. It maybe mid 1800s?
Retrieving from my thoughts I smiled at him. I must look like an idiot in my grey sweatpants and casually tucked in plain white t shirt, holding the paint.
He extended his hand. A handshake? Is he inviting me to dance? He touched the painting I was holding. Oh! he wants tthe painting. I gave him the painting. He looked at it with great admiration. "Beautiful, for its it's been painted by the most amazing painter of all. The Queen's very own painter; Antonio".
He had beautiful onyx eyes. His black hair was tied back. His jawline was sharp and well defined. His lips looked soft, kissable.
Just a matter of seconds, I was walkign down a hallway with him. It had beautiful sculptures. He led me to a balcony. The balcony devoured us with the view of the Victorian city. Few lights were lit while the sun was bidding its goodbye. Men walked home while vendors were in a hurry to close. Children were called inside. Smell of food flooded the atmosphere and reached us. I was really in the Victorian Era. I had been researching about it for a while now for a project.
"For this fair lady looks like you". He caught my attention. My eyes shifted to the painting. I hadn't looked at it thoroughly. Just the colors. And the lady looked like me. She looked soft and gentle. Her voice must be music under the breeze. She must have graceful and delicate movements.
A flower kept on her right ear caught my attention. It was the same flower that was in the old diary I found in the basement few days ago.
"What caught those eyes?"
I shook my head as no.
"Now, a lady doesn't do that. Where are you from? Who are you?"
He raised his brow at me. He looked stern now.
I was scared. Sweat built up on my forehead. My fingers intertwined, going against and with one another. I wanted to wake up. Without a second thought I ran inside the building, blindly.
But, what I didn't know was he knew it. He knew everything I didn't know. He had answers that I will never get.
#writco #mystry #victorianera #writcostorychallenge #story
#writcostory #WritcoPrompt #write
follow me for more!!!
comment me on how I can improve
