The Road Taken
an excerpt

"Where did they put the horse?"

Ari thought that was actually a very reasonable question upon seeing a car for the first time. Especially from a 14th century Medieval French peasant who'd never seen a motor or so much as a bicycle. "It's like a cart, but it doesn't need a horse to move," she said, gratified to see Marc wasn't running or hiding or freaking out the way most movies would have done it. Living in Los Angeles got you really sick of the stupid things movies would do sometimes.

What he was doing was looking at her with an expression that clearly demanded more of an answer than that.

Uh. "It's like a metal horse." Trains were first called 'The Iron Horse', right? Because the Native Americans facing it had never seen so much as a gear, let alone a machine. "A horse made out of iron with metal muscles, only it's not really alive, and it kind of... rolls." Ariadne Iphegenaia Brown's voice tapered off at the downright incredulous look Marc was giving her. Or, well, she tapered off when she realized the expression was less incredulous and more "Are you insane?"

He shook his head, went to open his mouth, closed it, then tried again: "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard in my life. It doesn't look anything like a horse; it doesn't move anything like a horse. It moves like a cart. With wheels," he added as if afraid she hadn't noticed those. "What? You don't think I know what a wheel is?"

He was looking almost angry now; definitely insulted. And honestly, she couldn't blame him. It was a pretty stupid explanation....

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and my last line, after hitting 50k and realizing I needed reminder notes/an outline for the rest of the story:

[[In which they make it to the docks--with much description thereof--and arrange for their passage, undoubtably after some false starts and frustrations, because their authoress is a stone bitch and is only happy when they cry.]]

THE END! ;-)))