I was having my usual Sunday morning lie in, reading a book on Ancient Romans, when a loud pop made me jump.

Strange, purplish smoke was filling my room, its scent reminding me of lavender, or rather sage... If it wasn't for its unusual colour, I would think the house was on fire. Running to the window I opened it wide, hoping that the still quite fresh, summer morning's air would clear it.
The August days in London were usually stiflingly hot, but the early mornings were always pleasant.

I approached the smoke, waving my arms around in all directions to make it go away. Unexpectedly, one of my hands hit something that was hidden within the smoke. A somebody.

There was a young girl standing there, looking at me, not much older than myself. An Ancient Roman girl, judging by her attire.

She was clad in a bright linen tunic and a stola, tied at her waist with a thin, golden cord. Across her body, over one of her shoulders, she wore a long piece of fabric of a gorgeous red hue, its extremities held firmly together by a large, golden brooch. Her long, dark hair was done up in the most intricate fashion, I had never seen a hair-do like that outside of my books on the history of Ancient Rome. On her feet, she wore a pair of golden-red sandals matching her dress perfectly.

Oh, I was so jealous, I wished I could go out dressed up in that way! Then I thought of my friends' reactions, if ever they saw me dressed up in such a manner, and quickly changed my mind. I would just stick to my pyjamas that I was wearing at the moment and my favourite, comfortable slippers.

The girl surrounded by the now dissipating purple smoke was turning around, studying my room. Noticing me in front of her, she pointed at my pink, plush bunny slippers, saying something that I didn't quite understand. The language she used might have been Italian, or rather Latin. Then she walked over to my writing table and switched on my reading light, retracting her hand fast, as if she was scared to get burned.

"Who are you? What are you doing in my room?" I asked, unable to hold my questions back any longer.

While continuing her walk around and touching all my things one after another curiously, she said, in a surprisingly good English,
"I am Livia, I live in Pompeii. I was getting bored at home, with Mount Vesuvius smoking, keeping us in, so I prayed to the gods to take me somewhere else for a while. It is not the first time that I have done this, but I do not think I have ever gone so far in place or time before. Where am I?" she enquired, while jumping on my bed with her sandals still on.

"Would you please stop that," I begged her, but she had already lost her interest in destroying the bed and moved on to my television.
"You are in London, in august twenty-nineteen," I informed her. "Soo... you do this often? Leaving your home and time-travelling the world? Have you got a time machine or something?"

"Well, yes and no," she answered. "I do time-travel, I love it, but I do not own any machine. See, I have this gift. If I pray and concentrate very hard, I can move in time. But I neither can choose the destination, nor stay too long. My grandmother was a sibyl, an oracle. It runs in the family."

"Really? That's cool," I started to say. I had so many questions, but no chance to ask them. Livia managed to switch on my TV and quickly hid behind my back when she got scared of the people on the screen.

"Are they your friends? Send them away please, now!"

Reaching for the remote control, I asked, "Livia, do you mean that your grandmother, and you yourself, are related to the famous Sibyl of Cumae?"
I had read about this particular oracle in Virgil's Aeneid at school, and thought that she had been an amazing woman.

"Nonna, my grandmother, used to say that we were related. She was born in Cumae and came to Pompeii when she married grandad. But grandmother wasn't quite as famous, she decided to live a normal life instead of screaming prophecies off the cliffs, or reading the future from moving leaves. When nonna prophesied the earthquake in the year sixty-two, nobody even believed her. So when she found out that Mount Vesuvius would erupt in seventy-nine, she warned the people, and then, knowing that the majority wouldn't take her seriously, created the loop, too. As she expected, only a few families fled the town, following her advice. The rest of us are still there-- they didn't even notice being in the loop, can you believe it?" she asked, with an absentminded smile full of memories playing on her lips.

No, I couldn't believe any of it, actually. Sibyls, earthquake, volcanic eruption, time-travel, Livia in my room, Pompeii... My confused thoughts were spinning fast in my head, the lingering scent of Livia's magical smoke making me feel dizzy.

I closed my eyes for a moment or two, trying to gather my scattered wits. When I reopened them and turned around, looking for her, I found my unexpected guest going through my wardrobe.

"May I try these on?" she pleaded hopefully, holding my favourite pair of skin-tight jeans in one hand, and a flowery short dress in the other.

"Yes, go on," I agreed, knowing that she wouldn't take no for an answer anyway. Livia just seemed to feel at home in my bedroom.

"You know, I think I would have become a great sibyl, if we didn't end up in the loop. I can see the future sometimes; for instance, I know that we will meet again," she mused with a dreamy look in her eyes, caressing the soft fabric of my dress.

"What is this loop you are talking about, Livia, I don't understand." I was so curious...

"Jenny!" A familiar voice called me from somewhere in the house.

"That's my mum," I informed Livia, answering her silent question.

"Jenny, come on, you'll be late!" The voice was echoing through my subconscious.
I woke up with a start, my mum shaking my shoulder.

There was no sign of Livia anywhere. My book on Romans lay open on the floor, I must have dropped it when I fell asleep. The room was in a complete disorder-- my shoes and clothes scattered where I had left them last night, while doing my luggage.

"Sorry, mum," I apologised, kissing her on the cheek.
"I didn't mean to leave you with all this mess."

"Don't worry honey, just hurry up. Laura will be desperate if you miss the flight."

Laura has been my best friend since we were five. We went to school together and separated only last year, to attend different universities. Visiting Italy and Pompeii was our shared dream for a long time, and finally our parents judged us old and responsible enough to let us go.

When the sound of the doorbell announced Laura's arrival, I was still getting dressed. As I reached for my favourite pair of jeans, I noticed something shiny lying on top. It was Livia's brooch-- a large oval made of some yellow metal, most likely gold, with a purple stone in the middle. An amethyst, my favourite stone. The flowery dress that Livia wanted to try on was missing.

An exchange, I thought, puzzled.

"Oh, that's lovely," mum said, looking at the jewel in my hand on her way to open the door for Laura. "Will you wear it today?"

"Yes, definitely," I told her, smiling to myself while fastening the brooch to my shirt.