I refer to what happened as “it” because I still don’t understand what exactly had
occurred at that moment. I felt a force tugging relentlessly at my body, and I was
sucked in, headfirst, into the huge whirlpool that had become the Triton Fountain.
Strangely enough, I didn’t become wet, but after a few terrifying moments, landed
painfully in a heap in the middle of a square.
Nobody had noticed my presence. As I gazed around me, I noticed that the scene was
taken straight out of a history book. The people surrounding me were walking
towards an entryway that looked strangely familiar- but wait! I gasped. The entryway
was not simply an entryway, it was a city gate, specifically named Porta San Giorgo. If
you despise history, I guarantee that you have no idea what I’m talking about. Yet if
you’re remotely familiar with the history of Valletta, you should understand what this
city gate signifies. You see, in 2018, the entryway to Valletta is the fifth one, and was
designed by Renzo Piano. But Porta San Giorgo, the very one before me, was the
original gate. The one that was supposed to be destroyed, way back in 1632. It was
then that I realised that somehow I had travelled back in time.
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