My journey to Alexandria

Sitting here at my desk in Lemuria, staring at the blank pages in front of me, I am not quite sure how to begin. The logical place of course is at the very beginning but I am still trying to reflect on exactly what has happened to me. If I do not understand , how will my readers be able to follow logically what I am writing. The best way to begin is to state clearly that there is no logic, no time sequence, nothing in the right place at the right time. Things just happened when and how they chose. Perhaps time is a wheel with no beginning or end and we can take our home in the 20th century and sit it next to a village existing in the time of the cave men, and perhaps I can teach cave women to sew warm coats for their children on my electric sewing machine. Illogical? Now you know how this adventure went, so set aside your need for details to be accurate and I will try to relate my fascinating journey.
To start with I was late joining the elders and many went on a journey without me. I did not read the details too carefully so was not clear where I was to go or what I was to discover so I decided to hunt for the door that Heather had opened. I found an old rusty ring in the basement floor connected to a man hole cover. Perhaps this was the way, as their were lots of footsteps around it , but the cover was way too heavy for me to lift. The basement is very poorly lit but I rummaged around and finally found a long narrow board that I could push through the ring and use as a lever and the cover slowly slid to the side. I am always getting in trouble physically in the visible world for exhausting myself before I have gotten half way into my day but for some reason, as I dropped down the hole, I felt like I was instantly absorbing energy; almost as though I was ageless.
I seemed to be in a dark dirt tunnel that slowly sloped downward. This did not sound like what Heather described. The only lights were the pictures set into crevices along the walls that gave off a strange yellow glow. Each picture had a name at the bottom but I did not recognize any of the names. These must be the pictures of Heathers’ ancestors she mentioned.
I had been looking at the wall on my right but at a certain point I started looking at the pictures on the left wall as I moved deeper into the earth. It was at that moment that a twinge of familiarity entered my brain. That wall also had names I recognized below each picture, such as Bennett, Hickock, Burns, etc. This wall displayed my ancestors. I was so absorbed in this discovery that I did not notice that I had reached a fork in the tunnel. I continued down the left branch for quite a ways when I finally realized that there were no pictures on the right wall. I must have taken a wrong turn but the interesting thing about the right wall is that it now held large floor to ceiling mirrors. As I continued walking and looking into each one I saw myself, first as I am today and then continually shedding years as I walked along. The only difference was that every time I got younger so did my appearance. Even though it felt like me it no longer looked like me. Needless to say there was no turning back now. Especially since I could now smell sea air and see light flooding the far end of the tunnel. I was approaching something that felt strangely familiar. The mirror at my right now reflected a 13 year old girl that looked very much like the girl I once was, except that her hair was red, her face freckled and she had large dark brown eyes. I knew it was not me of this century. This was the point where I was forced to break away from any logical thinking.