Date and Location Unknown
Jennifer woke up in an unfamiliar setting, trying to recall, put together what happened, where she was, trying to transition to being awake. As she opened her eyes, she saw over her a man dressed in a suit. She didn't quite know if she was awake yet.
The man spoke to her. “Hello, Mrs. Miller, how are you feeling?” His accent was foreign but familiar, although she couldn't identify it, or at least didn't want to. She noticed, but it didn't mean that much to her. In her fatigued state, such things didn't seem important.
Jennifer picked her body up to get a look around. And to not feel like someone was hovering over her. Her body was sore and weak, and she was cold. All this confirmed to her that she was awake. As she picked herself up, she ensured that the blanket over her was wrapped around her. But her mind wasn't focused on this. She was annoyed about what he had said. Why do people insist on using the wrong name?
Jennifer replied softly and nervously, “I prefer to be called Jennifer.” This wasn't a typical insistence for her, and she regretted it as soon as she did it. Usually she could deal with the insistence of formality when it was appropriate. But today it bothered her more than normal. The need to answer caused her to act on this. Now she needed to try to fix this. “I am sorry. You may use my formal name if you need. The appropriate title is 'Ms.' though. I am not married, but 'Miss' is childish, disrespectful. 'Ms.' is safe.”
However, the reaction to this wasn't as she expected. “I am unfamiliar with that convention. However, we can still be formal using given names, if you want. In our culture we use our first name and father's name in formal situations. I am Ivan Savvich. I have been assigned to work with you.”
As she responded, Jennifer closed her eyes in thought, “In your culture?” She then turned back to face him, still speaking softly, “Where am I? What happened?”
“You don't remember? You are in a hospital in Yakutsk. We found you unconscious in the forest. The other individual with whom we found you claims your appearance scared away his attackers and you saved his life. I was hoping you can tell me how and why you came here, and what you remember happening.”
As he spoke, Jennifer's mind returned to what had happened before she was here. She closed her eyes as she recalled. She remembered snow, trees, a man. He was injured, shot. They talked. Her memory seemed off. Maybe it feels surreal because of the snow. Snow in June? Something is off.
Jennifer responded, “I don't recognize that name. Where is this city?” She opened her eyes as she talked. Another thing occurred to her. He has been assigned to work with me, asking about past events. But he had already started to respond to her other question. Is this guy some sort of police officer? I need to be careful.
“Yakutsk is the capital of the Yakut Autonomous Soviet Socialist Republic.” He paused, watching her reaction before continuing, “In the far east of the Russian Soviet Federative Socialist Republic.”
A story of an American woman who finds herself in the past in Siberia. Picture book format, currently updating twice a month. View the story posts in chronological order with the archive tab.
19 July 2017
Initial Arrival 1 Old
Date and Location Unknown
Jennifer woke up in an unfamiliar setting, trying to recall, put together what happened, where she was, trying to transition to being awake. As she opened her eyes, she saw over her a man dressed in a suit. She didn't quite know if she was awake yet.
The man spoke to her. “Hello, Mrs. Miller, how are you feeling?” His accent was foreign but familiar, although she couldn't identify it, or at least didn't want to. She noticed, but it didn't mean that much to her. In her fatigued state, such things didn't seem important.
Jennifer picked her body up to get a look around. And to not feel like someone was hovering over her. Her body was sore and weak, and she was cold. All this confirmed to her that she was awake. As she picked herself up, she ensured that the blanket over her was wrapped around her. But her mind wasn't focused on this. She was annoyed about what he had said. Why do people insist on using the wrong name?
Jennifer replied softly and nervously, “I prefer to be called Jennifer.” This wasn't a typical insistence for her, and she regretted it as soon as she did it. Usually she could deal with the insistence of formality when it was appropriate. But today it bothered her more than normal. The need to answer caused her to act on this. Now she needed to try to fix this. “I am sorry. You may use my formal name if you need. The appropriate title is 'Ms.' though. I am not married, but 'Miss' is childish, disrespectful. 'Ms.' is safe.”
However, the reaction to this wasn't as she expected. “I am unfamiliar with that convention. However, we can still be formal using given names, if you want. In our culture we use our first name and father's name in formal situations. I am Ivan Savvich. I have been assigned to work with you.”
As she responded, Jennifer closed her eyes in thought, “In your culture?” She then turned back to face him, still speaking softly, “Where am I? What happened?”
“You don't remember? You are in a hospital in Yakutsk. We found you unconscious in the forest. The other individual with whom we found you claims your appearance scared away his attackers and you saved his life. I was hoping you can tell me how and why you came here, and what you remember happening.”
As he spoke, Jennifer's mind returned to what had happened before she was here. She closed her eyes as she recalled. She remembered snow, trees, a man. He was injured, shot. They talked. Her memory seemed off. Maybe it feels surreal because of the snow. Snow in June? Something is off.
Jennifer responded, “I don't recognize that name. Where is this city?” She opened her eyes as she talked. Another thing occurred to her. He has been assigned to work with me, asking about past events. But he had already started to respond to her other question. Is this guy some sort of police officer? I need to be careful.
“Yakutsk is the capital of the Yakut Autonomous Soviet Socialist Republic.” He paused, watching her reaction before continuing, “In the far east of the Russian Soviet Federative Socialist Republic.”
Jennifer woke up in an unfamiliar setting, trying to recall, put together what happened, where she was, trying to transition to being awake. As she opened her eyes, she saw over her a man dressed in a suit. She didn't quite know if she was awake yet.The man spoke to her. “Hello, Mrs. Miller, how are you feeling?” His accent was foreign but familiar, although she couldn't identify it, or at least didn't want to. She noticed, but it didn't mean that much to her. In her fatigued state, such things didn't seem important.
Jennifer picked her body up to get a look around. And to not feel like someone was hovering over her. Her body was sore and weak, and she was cold. All this confirmed to her that she was awake. As she picked herself up, she ensured that the blanket over her was wrapped around her. But her mind wasn't focused on this. She was annoyed about what he had said. Why do people insist on using the wrong name?
Jennifer replied softly and nervously, “I prefer to be called Jennifer.” This wasn't a typical insistence for her, and she regretted it as soon as she did it. Usually she could deal with the insistence of formality when it was appropriate. But today it bothered her more than normal. The need to answer caused her to act on this. Now she needed to try to fix this. “I am sorry. You may use my formal name if you need. The appropriate title is 'Ms.' though. I am not married, but 'Miss' is childish, disrespectful. 'Ms.' is safe.”
However, the reaction to this wasn't as she expected. “I am unfamiliar with that convention. However, we can still be formal using given names, if you want. In our culture we use our first name and father's name in formal situations. I am Ivan Savvich. I have been assigned to work with you.”
As she responded, Jennifer closed her eyes in thought, “In your culture?” She then turned back to face him, still speaking softly, “Where am I? What happened?”
“You don't remember? You are in a hospital in Yakutsk. We found you unconscious in the forest. The other individual with whom we found you claims your appearance scared away his attackers and you saved his life. I was hoping you can tell me how and why you came here, and what you remember happening.”
As he spoke, Jennifer's mind returned to what had happened before she was here. She closed her eyes as she recalled. She remembered snow, trees, a man. He was injured, shot. They talked. Her memory seemed off. Maybe it feels surreal because of the snow. Snow in June? Something is off.
Jennifer responded, “I don't recognize that name. Where is this city?” She opened her eyes as she talked. Another thing occurred to her. He has been assigned to work with me, asking about past events. But he had already started to respond to her other question. Is this guy some sort of police officer? I need to be careful.
“Yakutsk is the capital of the Yakut Autonomous Soviet Socialist Republic.” He paused, watching her reaction before continuing, “In the far east of the Russian Soviet Federative Socialist Republic.”
02 July 2017
Chapter 1, Subchapter 1: Awakening in the Past, Initial Arrival - Notes
The first part of this chapter is written and edited, although the images still need to be made. It will be 32 updates. I will hopefully start posting the story starting in the middle of July.
Most of the conventions are the same as the prologue. However, I will not color the dialog in this chapter. I will try to keep the acknowledgement section at least somewhat updated.
In addition, images which come from memory or dreams will be a different hand-drawn sketch style. This will hopefully make drawing the images faster, and will emphasize the imprecision of the situation.
Some updates will have no images, and shorter updates, especially those without images, may be posted between my typical twice monthly updates, slightly increasing the update frequency.
Edit - 6 Dec 17:
Due to the fact that I have been having trouble finding time and getting myself to draw picture, as well as the fact that most of this is dialog, I have chosen that for this chapter, most of it will be without images. The hand-drawn images for the dreams and memories will be included, as well as possibly a few others of significance.
Most of the conventions are the same as the prologue. However, I will not color the dialog in this chapter. I will try to keep the acknowledgement section at least somewhat updated.
In addition, images which come from memory or dreams will be a different hand-drawn sketch style. This will hopefully make drawing the images faster, and will emphasize the imprecision of the situation.
Some updates will have no images, and shorter updates, especially those without images, may be posted between my typical twice monthly updates, slightly increasing the update frequency.
Edit - 6 Dec 17:
Due to the fact that I have been having trouble finding time and getting myself to draw picture, as well as the fact that most of this is dialog, I have chosen that for this chapter, most of it will be without images. The hand-drawn images for the dreams and memories will be included, as well as possibly a few others of significance.
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