The bookshop was huge. Rows and rows of books arranged on shelves in a slapdash manner.
“You’ll need this,” a man said, slipping a thick volume into my hands.
Before I could react, he disappeared, and I was alone among the bookshelves.
I started opening it.
My movement actuated something. Darkness. A strong wind. I was moving; fast. Everything was in a state of flux. Then the wind died. The darkness lifted. I made out a small figure.
“Approach” it chirruped.
“I was just...”
“Opening the book”, it responded.
“You’re going to cook for us”, it continued.
“No buts. You know the rules. Your continued journey is predicated by the quality of the meal you cook.”
I looked down. I was still clutching the book. “Compendium of Gustatory Delights”, read the title. Opening it, the words jumped out at me: “Chapter one - Recipes for Time Travellers.”
Exactly 150 words written for Monday Mixer, using as many of the words (at least three) below as possible. Feedback welcomed.