Love letter to the past

Chapter 2

'What do you think you're doing? Don't you know how to apologize?'

The petite hand and the exasperated voice belonged to a lady in yellow polka-dotted pin up dress. Her big brown eyes gazed into mine, as if they were staring into my soul. Her copper red hair glimmered under the sun like the facets of a diamond. She was standing so close that her dragon-puffed like breaths brushed against my skin.

With a palm cupping on my throbbing cheek, I rehearsed an apology in my head before opening my mouth so that I could save myself from anymore embarrassment.

'I...' Just as my confused and shaky voice began to form words, I was shot a death glare by the lady as she adjusted the sleeves of her dress. She then bent down to pick up a wooden sign that must've dropped when I ran into her.

'I'm really sorry...' I attempted to apologize again but the murmurs from the 'spectators' that circled us consumed my voice. Unimpressed by the blank look on my face, she shut her eyes, took a deep breath, and walked away towards the crowd.

A small group of the crowd around us dispersed and tailed her as she strutted away in black pumps. She lifted the wooden sign in her hand up high to signal the people behind her, ensuring that no one was left behind.

Tour guide huh?

The remaining crowd shot me a couple more of judgemental glares before leaving me alone, frozen, awkward in front of a phone booth. The nerves in my brain felt like they were connected again. Flashbacks of what just happened moments before the incident occurred in my mind.

Whirlwind, phone booth, larva door, unrecognizable place...

'What is happening?' I  groaned, facing the sky, the only thing that hasn't changed since I entered that phone booth. The buildings, the streets, even the way people dressed were odd, as if they came straight out of a vintage magazine. No T-shirts, snap backs, or jackets, all the clothing I noticed on the streets were frilly dresses, gloves and cloches. 

After pinching on my arm to make sure I wasn't dreaming, I decided to explore the town in search for answers. My feet were numb from all the standing, so I sat on a bench beside a newspaper seller. He greeted me with a sympathetic smile and offered me a free newspaper. I politely rejected, but he already shoved it in my hand before I could respond.

'It's okay lad. Looks like you're having a rough day with the ladies.' The newspaper seller chuckled and continued to fan himself with his paper fan. The way he held his fan reminded me of the matchmaker in Mulan. Thinking of this, I smiled for the first time since I exited the phone booth.

His little booth was built under an enormous tree, shading him from the blazing sun. An umbrella was the only structure of his store, shielding him in case of a weather change.

'Thank you sir.' I pronounced my gratitude. He nodded, still all smiley. Two pedestrians who seemed to be his daily customers stopped by to greet him. They raised their hats in my direction too, which I replied with a grin.

I shifted my attention unto the newspaper on my lap. 'No harm in giving it a read, I might find some clues about this place.' Feeding myself with optimism, I unfolded the freshly printed press.

1919

I choked on air as I browsed my eyes on the date on the first page. I rubbed my eyes and checked it again, hopping the numbers would rearrange itself, but they stood still.

Year 1919 was a hundred years ago, is this a sick joke?