The woman walked over to the stove, opened the
door, and placed a pine scented timber inside. “Gonna get
cold tonight, we’ll need the heat,” she said, “2007 you say.
What street, honey? I’m Lizzie. What’s your name, darlin’?”

“Sarah Inman,” she answered, walking over to the stove. “It’s
the year, not the street,” she said. She was so frightened
and cold her teeth began to chatter.

“Sarah, you look like you’ve seen a ghost, settle down
now,” Lizzie said, looking at Sarah’s clothes and the strange
fabric they were made from. “Would you like some hot tea?” she offered.

“Yes ma’am,” Sarah answered, “if it’s not too much trouble.”

The woman shook her head with a smile. “No trouble,
darlin’. When Eli gets home he’ll take you back to your family.” She said.

“What year is it here?” Sarah asked.

“Why 1908, of course. They should have taught you that in
school. You do go to school, don’t you, Sarah?”

“Yes, ma’am, but you don’t understand. I live here in this
house in the year 2007.” Sarah answered.