There’s really nothing so pleasant as a seaside cruise in one’s automobile. Don’t you agree? It’s positively thrilling, especially when one is riding high in the elevated carriage of a 4WD, speeding along the edge of a cliff. One false move and you could plummet to your doom… oh, the excitement!
Of course, I would never truly ‘speed’, as far as the law is concerned. Yet, I’m hurtling along at a pace that seems frankly obscene. That, I feel, is only natural, given that automobiles have not yet come to be in my time . I can get up a cracking momentum on horseback, mind you, but one is so limited by the imperative to conduct oneself like a lady.
Thanks to the wonders of time travel, though, I’ve recently been made privy to the parallel existence of other times, where this imperative is very nearly non-existent. That, combined with the fabulous powers of the automobile, allows me to move at speeds undreamed of. While I’m here, I’m learning all I can about brake and clutch technology, in the hopes of eventually bringing it back to my home time.
It all started when Mary told me of a rumour that time travellers had taken up residence in sleepy Milperra, bringing with them all sorts of provisions from the future. I quickly discovered that there was a resident diesel mechanic near me, who had come to maintain the time travel device. After a bit of convincing, he agreed to let me accompany him on a trip to the future, provided I kept a low profile.
And so, here I am in 2020, driving an automobile! Who’d ever have thought it? In my time, automobiles were coming to be spoken of, but they seemed like the stuff of some far-off future. Indeed, the cars of 2020 are a far cry from those spoken of in my time – why, they are positively luxurious. If I didn’t know better I’d be forced to conclude that they are chariots of the gods.
You’ve been driving for about eight hours and all you want is a classic pub dinner, but you’re in the middle of an endless stretch of unfamiliar rural territory with no such oasis in sight. You know there must be a tavern around here somewhere, but a cursory glance at the locals you spotted in the servo a few kilometres back tells you’d be better off not asking for directions.
Desk ornaments: what are they all about? Not that I have anything against ornamentation on the whole, but aren’t desks cluttered enough as it is? Do we really need to be adding random objects that take away valuable surface area from essentials, such as notepads, ergonomic wrist supports, mugs and little bowls of paper clips and USB sticks?
From what little I know about Father’s many business habits, it all sounds very industrial. You know, all trucks and boats and cars and large pieces of machinery, the function of which I know not. It all sounds terribly dull to me, which is why I suggested at the nightly banquet that Father perhaps take on some more subtle ventures. Perhaps there needs to be an extra 
It’s certainly been a long while since Mother and Father took the family on a cruise. They used to be yearly affairs, but with Father being so busy with work it’s been indefinitely postponed, so it would seem. Not that I 
The Taylor-Vaknikovs have gone too far. There’s a certain amount of tact one must display in business and life, and they seem to display neither. I took Archibald along to the unveiling of their new, decorative window glass display, and I was expecting something crude and ill-thought-out. It was even worse than I expected: an entire room dedicated to the history of their family’s business acquisitions. Bear in mind that the people they invited to this event were their business partners and rivals, ostensibly in order to thank them and show that the Taylor-Vaknikovs could not have made it in the business world without their valued contacts.
Sometime I wish I could be invisible. Now, sometimes in this house I DO feel invisible, but that’s not what I mean. It’s just that Mother and Father, despite their good intentions, are rather protective and want me to do certain things at certain times, and I simply cannot wait until I am grown and can make my own decisions. I’m allowed to explore the grounds, but as large as they are, I have traversed them all, and I find the prospect of being observed by security cameras dull and limiting.
Cecelia seems to terribly sad to see Miguel go. He was her favourite footman, after all, and she seems to think there’s going to be an unfillable gap in the household now that Miguel is going back to Guatemala to help with the flooding of his home village.
I’ve grown terribly bored of our kitchen, and I’ve only been in there a couple of times. Of course, I’m talking about the prime kitchen that services the main dining hall. Kitchens two, three, four and…let’s say six are all on the list, although I don’t think we’ve ever had to use them so that’s quite far down said list.