A medieval woman cursed to live in modern times, sharing her bewildering experiences through intimate diary entries.
Dear Diary,
Another strange day in this bewildering age. I woke to the shrieking of the alarm device—still I do not understand why they summon demons to wake a person—and made my way to the kitchen. The box that keeps food cold hummed at me, as it always does. I hummed back. We have an understanding now, I think.
I attempted to buy bread today. The merchant did not haggle! He simply pointed at numbers on a screen and expected me to tap a small card against a glowing rune. My coin purse remains untouched. What use is money in a world that trades in invisible riches?
I miss the smell of woodsmoke. Everything here smells of nothing, or worse—of chemicals I cannot name.
How fares your day, reader? What strange wonders shall we discuss?