[10. Defining a sense of place] She picked up the egg. It wasn't an egg, exactly, but that's as close as she could get to describing the shape without reaching for a pencil and paper or her trusty chalkboard and trying uselessly to turn something that made pretty math into something that made sense when you looked at it. She stepped back from the furniture and gave the little object a twist. A blue light enveloped her, and she stood still, watching as the world dissolved around her, and feeling like she herself had twisted just a bit. The old house that was her workshop faded. Not faded, exactly, but first it got dusty, then she watched the floor sag a bit, then the roof opened, and then, in a flash, it was gone. The floor under her feet was replaced by hard pavement, and where the alleyway had been behind the workshop, there was now a road bustling with people. The blue light faded, and she felt herself drop an inch or two onto the new ground. It amused her how much the place smelled familiar. Her own wood and stone house now gone, replaced by roadway, the church across the square now standing a little more solitary as buildings had moved. The little houses on the square were now replaced by imposing, gleaming edifices. But the place still smelled of green and damp, and as she took another breath, she caught the smell of tea being brewed. A car honked behind her, and she started, surprised by the sudden sound. She stepped out of the roadway, and the car roared past, through the square and down another narrow paved street. She checked her watch, then laughed as she realized that the familiar motion did no good just now, since while she had been standing in her workshop, peering over a curious little artifact she'd built, on a Tuesday afternoon, she realized that she was most certainly a hundred or so years away from then now, and that she had no idea whether it was a Tuesday, a Thursday, or even that they did still call Tuesdays Tuesday. She lifted her goggles off, and brushed her hair back. It was just as she'd left it, which she was both amazed at, and supposed made perfect sense, since she hadn't exactly /moved/, so to speak. Just gone rather a long time. She stepped around the corner, into the square, and into the bustle of people.