When in Rome ...

Hula Hoops and Weird Portals

"Excuse but do you know how I can get to Oxford from here?" I asked the man as he hurried passed me his head engrossed in his cell phone. He passed by without acknowledging my presence.

Tch, how rude!

And they say New Yorkers are rude.

I pulled out my iPhone and quickly typed the address that was on my acceptance letter on Google maps before seeing the 2-and-a-half-hour approximate destination estimator. I clicked on the tab and clicked go on navigation. Pulling my bag on my shoulder I fixed the straps of my backpack and began the long tread up the hill as I pulled my suitcase up.

Sweat swept down my forehead and I felt gross all over. Grumbling I came upon a cross bridge that would lead me to the bus stop. I sighed as I began to walk when suddenly I felt my heart thump. I stopped suddenly as I felt pain clutch my heart. Wincing l grasped my chest with my left hand. Where did this come from?

Ignoring it, I began to walk forth were I came upon a group of individuals who were street performers.

"Step right up ladies and gentlemen, today you will see the impossible become possible if you don't believe me well then let's give it a try," said the man with an ominous smile.

No one seemed to mind him or pay attention to his chatter, his eyes caught me as he called out to me pulling me out of my deep thoughts, "How about you pretty lady, give it a shot. Trust me I know exactly what you need, what you want! This will change your life!"

Furrowing my brows a stepped forward with my stuff.

He picked up his chalk and began to draw a circle on the concrete floor. He then motioned me to stand inside the circle with my stuff which I did. Thinking what could it hurt?

He then pulled out a circle metal hula-hoop at least that's what it looked like over my head and it suddenly dropped a black screen around me encasing me inside the circle.

"What-?"

"Now dear count down backward from ten," he instructed.

Being still skeptical I began to count down from 10 ...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1..." by the time I was up to number 3 felt drowsy and my eyes closed much to my displeasure.

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"You think she's alright?" a small voice pierced my eardrums.

I groaned in pain clutching my head realizing I was in an awkward position where half of my body was on my suitcase the other was sprawled on the floor, the right arm was crushed underneath my duffle bag.

I got up slowly adjusting my eyesight to the bright natural light.

"Ugh I'm never going to believe no stupid street performers," I mumbled. My eyes blinked back and forth.

"Street performers you say! Were they here? I want to see!" the voice piped in. I looked to my side and noticed a cute little girl with an older boy no older than 9 looking at me in bewilderment.

I too couldn't help but stare at their outdated more like the Victorian era almost cosplay like attire.

"You look strange are you a lady of the night?" Asked the girl.

"Mother says they only come out in the night wearing the most peculiar garments," stated the same little girl.

I felt a tick appearing on my forehead as I realized she just indirectly called me a prostitute?!

"No I'm not a lady of the night," I bit out.

"Look you speak funny! What's wrong with her Elliot?" asked the girl.

"Darcy stop talking about her as if she's not there it's not polite and she's clearly a foreigner probably conned by some street rat. Miss would you like some assistance to my papa's tavern he may be able to help you," replied the boy named Elliot. I blinked at how polite and helpful this nine-year-old was, it was... weird.

"Sure," I answered as I was led into the streets following these kids with my freaking suitcase at hand. Ugh!

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