Hello. My name is Rosie. Today began normally but now I am not so sure. I caught the bus to my job at the munitions factory this morning like I’ve been doing every day. When my man went to war, I went to work like many of my women friends. I’ve been working so hard, I guess I was over tired because I must have fallen asleep. Before I knew it, the bus driver was shaking me awake and telling me it’s the end of the line and I have to get off the bus. When I stepped down onto the street, I knew something was wrong. I wasn’t at the factory. I don’t want to tell you where my factory is located because we are warned every day. You know “Loose Lips Sink Ships” and the like but I was definitely not there. I looked around and there were all kinds of people dressed in all kinds of strange clothing. Some of them looked like the drawings I remember from my school books or some of those paintings at the museum but others were like nothing I’ve seen before. The cars in the parking lot were strange to me too. There wasn’t a Nash or a DeSoto among them. For everything I was seeing and hearing, I knew I wasn’t in 1942 any longer. Maybe I should see a doctor. I heard several references to Doctor Who. I guess no one knows his name but I better find him and find out what happened to me. Oh maybe I should get help at that blue police box over there.
The Tardis has landed in the picnic grove at the Pennsylvania Renaissance Faire
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