Friday, June 12, 2015



Completely alone….. 

I can’t see anyone.  I can’t hear anyone.  

The trees around me whisper in their own language.  Are they laughing at me?  Weeping for me?  It’s hard to tell; trees are tricky like that. 

I woke up here in the forest with a scabbed-over cut on my temple and no idea how I got here or where, exactly, I am.  Other than that cut, a headache and a few scratches on my hands and arms, I’m otherwise unhurt.  Did I have an accident and hit my head?  I’m not exactly dressed for hiking in the woods and don’t quite understand why I would be here. 

The last thing that I remember is leaving home to go visit my sister.  If I had a car accident and went off the road, I must have wandered, dazed, for a while because there is no sign of a road or my piece of crap car.  I should have replaced the damned thing when my brother told me to.  I admit though that, just about now, I’d be pretty relieved to find it. 

I’m hungry but not starving so it’s probably the same day.  It’s hard to tell exactly when since I don’t seem to have my purse with my cell phone in it.  The sun is a lot lower in the sky than I remember though so it must be close to supper time.  Now to decide which way to go when all I can see is forest.  Being a city girl, I can’t even tell which direction I came from – no tracker am I.  The shadows are getting longer as I stand here mired in indecision.  Soon, I’ll be doing my thinking in the dark. 

I was traveling west to go to my sister’s place so I turn to the east and start walking hoping that I’ll be heading towards home.  This seems like good logic to me.  My running shoes are muddy and damp and definitely not made for hiking.   

Soon, I’m panting and having a hard time keeping my footing amongst the roots and underbrush.  As the sun sinks further down in the sky, I can feel my sense of calm dissolving and panic starting to set in.   

I don’t want to be alone in the forest after dark with those whispering trees. 

I’m getting hungrier.  I’m getting thirsty.  My head hurts.  I have no coat and am starting to get cold. 

The last light has left the sky and the nocturnal creatures of the forest are stirring; adding their own conversations to those of the trees.  My fear can be felt in the fast beating of my heart and the extra throb in my sore head.  

I stop and close my eyes.  I must calm down if I'm going to survive.  As my breathing starts to slow, I open my eyes and truly look around.  Now that the sky is dark, I can see a faint glow up ahead.  


I follow the glow - farther away than it had seemed - tripping occasionally on roots but making progress.  

Finally, my feet hit blacktop and a feeling of relief sweeps through me.  Almost a mile to my right, I can see the lights of a police car and tow truck.  I can't see it but I'll bet that that's where I'll find my car; probably off the road.  I've never been so happy to see a police car in my whole life........


Saturday, June 7, 2014

The Encounter

The beat of the music is so loud that I can feel my teeth vibrating as I move onto the dance floor with my friends.  It’s our monthly ladies’ night out and we’re on fire tonight.  The sexy heels on our feet, the short skirts and all of the primping that went into preparing leave us feeling smokin’ hot and ready for anything. 

As always, we started out this night at one of the city’s fashionable restaurants for cocktails and dinner.  The food there is top-notch but nobody really goes there for the food; it’s THE place to “be seen”.  We soaked in the attention as we fuelled ourselves up for a night of dancing.  Now, fuelled by martinis, good food and the appreciative glances from the men at other tables, we are on the dance floor writhing to the beat next to all of the other pretty young people. 

My friends and I dance with each other as well as others on the dance floor; sometimes other woman but, most often, with the handsome men that seem to gravitate to us.  It is a night for flirting – harmless or not.  The temperature seems to increase with each passing minute, adding to the frenzy of movement.  I feel a tingle and look up straight into the dark eyes of a man across the dance floor from me.   

He is breathtakingly beautiful and all of the bodies around us disappear as our eyes lock.  I don’t even remember moving but, seemingly, within a second he is right in front of me and we are moving to the music perfectly in sync with one another.  His eyes are a deep, dark brown – almost black – and I can feel myself falling into them.  

We move closer to one another….. I can't stop myself from reaching out to touch him…… his skin is cold; absolutely cold.  I jerk my hand back but he reaches out and takes it in his own cold hand and tells me not to be afraid.  He says that he is in this world for a short time but not OF this world.  I don't understand but, somehow, I'm not afraid.  

He leads me away from the dance floor toward the door of the club and I follow without hesitation, my friends forgotten.  I never leave with a man that I don't know but this feels right.  We cross the street and he stops, leans over and lightly kisses my forehead.  

I'm gazing into his eyes in wonder when there is a tremendous explosion behind us knocking me to the ground and deafening my ears for days to come.  I look around for my mysterious new friend but he's nowhere to be seen.  How can that be?  I must have a concussion; not seeing straight.  The police and emergency services soon show up and I'm loaded onto an ambulance.  Will I find him again?

I later learn that the club's owners had some underworld connections that went very sour.  Sadly, so many of their patrons paid the ultimate price for this.


A week later now and I'm recovering from the concussion that I did indeed have and enjoying a leisurely visit with my mother.  She has brought over some old family albums to flip through while we drink tea and chat.  As we go flip through the pages of some of her oldest pictures, one particular picture stops me in my tracks.  When I ask who it is, she tells me that it was my great-grandfather who died at about my age in a mine explosion leaving behind my great-grandmother and two young children.  She comments on what a handsome man he was then continues flipping through the pages.

I have stopped paying attention; the image of those dark eyes looking up from the page etched into my mind.

(inspired by Indie Chick Lit prompt)

Sunday, May 11, 2014


The most incredible thing happened to me this morning.  I absolutely had to get this down on paper before I could forget even one detail.  You may not want to believe it but everything that I’m about to tell you is the absolute truth. 

It’s such a nice day that I decided to walk to the market for a dose of sunshine and exercise; not that I took the chance to enjoy my surroundings.  As usual, I had my eyes on my smart phone, texting with my boyfriend.  As a matter of fact, that is his biggest complaint about me; that I don’t pay attention and live in the moment. 

Walking along with my eyes cast down, I ran smack into a young guy in a rock concert t-shirt and jeans.  My vision blacked out and I felt like I was falling through the ground but then I blinked and the world was back.  The guy mumbled an apology but as he turned away from me, I heard “idiot needs to watch where she’s going”.  I turned to deliver a zinger to him but saw the way he was shaking his head and gazing around himself and thought better of it.  He was obviously a little “off”. 

I shook the incident off and continued on my way but soon, I realized that something had changed.   

From the woman who passed me on the right, “what is she thinking wearing that shirt with those pants?!” 

“Nice ass, chickie” from the creepy old guy sitting on the bench to the left. 

Here’s the thing though; while these people were looking at me, their lips weren’t moving!  How could this be possible?  It’s like I was reading their thoughts…. 

Every time I caught someone’s eye, I “heard” what they thought about me but not any of their other thoughts.  When I stopped at my favourite cafĂ© for a coffee-to-go, the server who always flirts with me thought about how he would like to ask me out and his co-worker thought about how she would like to chase me out so that she could have her hunky co-worker’s attention for herself. 

When I stopped at the butcher shop for steaks, I heard him think he would offer me the less fresh cuts because “the dumb broad” wouldn’t know any better.  I showed him!  The look of surprise on his face was almost comical. 

It’s truly amazing what hides behind people’s smiles.  These kind of things kept happening everywhere I went. 

Finally, my curiosity got the better of me.  I went to my boyfriend’s place a few blocks away.  When I knocked on his door, he opened it looking flustered.  “Wow, she never surprises me like this; it’s a good thing Tara left early for the gym!”  Well, there it was.  I knew he had been hiding something.  

I told him to have a good life with Tara and walked away.  Yet another comical facial expression…. 

I was so distracted with thoughts of that rat that I didn’t see the elderly woman until I had already bumped into her.  My vision blacked out again, I felt a lurch and, just like that, the voices that I had been hearing for the last two hours were gone.  I tested it by stopping to buy a newspaper.   


What did I do next?  Well, I decided that I could use another coffee.  I have to sign off now since I need to get ready for my date tonight with a certain hunky barista 

Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Empty House

I can’t remember the last time that I was this tired.  My feet are dragging as I trudge up the walkway and my mind has so many thoughts swirling around that I don’t even remember pulling into the driveway or opening my front door. 

I probably shouldn’t even drive when I am this distracted but then how would I get away from that hellhole of an office?  Something has to change soon…..  the stress is killing me.  Mr. Edwards was an absolute bear, growling at everyone; especially me.  If only I hadn’t reversed the numbers in that journal entry, I might have escaped his notice.   

Instead I ended up in the bathroom sobbing with Jenny trying to comfort me with her funny impersonations of the boss man.  It almost worked. 

I absently open the hall closet to deposit my coat and stop dead in my tracks.  It’s empty.  Where are the jackets, boots, shoes and other paraphenalia that usually clutter this closet?  I look around and realize that the welcome mat isn’t under my feet.  Where is the mirror where I check my lipstick before I walk out each morning? 

Have I been robbed?  Who would steal these things? 

It isn’t just these inconsequential things though.  Looking into my living room I can see that it is bare.  My couch, my coffee table, my pictures, TV, everything is gone!  It’s the same story in the bedroom and kitchen; not even a crumb is left and both rooms are cleaner than I’ve ever managed to keep them.  My toothbrush isn’t even in the bathroom. 

I’m so stunned that I can’t even process this.  It’s definitely my house; I can see my favourite cherry tree in full spring bloom outside the kitchen window.   

I should call the police but there is no phone and patting my pockets, I realize that I must have left my cell phone out in the car.  As I turn to head out there, I hear a key turning in the front door lock and freeze.  Have the robbers come back?  That’s crazy, there’s nothing left to come back for! 

A pretty woman in a nice business suit walks into my house followed by a middle-aged couple.  They are talking about what a nice area this is.  Right, an area where people’s homes get emptied while they are gone!   

Now she’s showing them the living room, still going on about community amenities and tax rates and they are completely ignoring me.  Then the husband asked why the current owner had moved. 

“It’s such a sad story.  The young woman who owned this house was driving during that last blizzard we had when her employer called her on her cell phone.  The call distracted her from the road and, well ……. as I said, it’s a sad thing” 

Maybe I really shouldn’t have been driving. 

Sunday, April 27, 2014

Getting Started

Welcome to my attempt at tinkering with fiction - as the blog name implies. 

A little bit about me: 

I am a 44 year old divorced mom of two teenagers, The Boy (15) and The Girl (13)and a cat who lives in the suburbs of Montreal and would be happy to see those spring flowers any day now…… 

I have a blog called A Day in the Life of Kat where I talk about what is going on around me, share the occasional recipe, talk about what books I’m reading, participate in a couple of different writing prompt link-ups and pretty much anything else that is on my mind that I think others may be interested in.  I have really come to treasure the friendships that have been created there and the interactions with other bloggers. 

I am a long-time avid reader who loves mysteries, thrillers, some horror (yes Stephen King, I’m talking about you) along with a smattering of fantasy and science fiction.  I’m not a “chick lit” kind of gal but will step out of the previously listed genres when a book ("chick lit" or otherwise) comes along that piques my interest. 

Being such an avid reader, I have always toyed with the idea of writing fiction myself but I’ve never had the confidence to really have a go at it.  I was great at math in school but struggled with writing and the arts.  I’m older and (hopefully) wiser now and have gained some experience and confidence with my other blog so I’ve decided to take a leap of faith here. 

I recently started following Indie Chick Lit on Google + and seeing that they post regular writing prompts has tempted and inspired me.  I also have a book of writing prompts that I bought a while back but have yet to do much with.  Having this blog here waiting for me to publish on it will (again, hopefully) motivate me to really give this a chance. 

It has been suggested to me that I should perhaps set up a fiction page on my other blog and those who suggested it are probably quite right.  I just want to keep this little experiment separate for now.  If it is something that I truly get into and my confidence grows, I may eventually merge the two blogs but, for now, I'm going to go this route.

Everything posted on this blog will be fiction.  For the most part, my language will be fairly clean and without sexually explicit content so that my writing will be appealing to most people.  I’m not here to be controversial; I just want to exercise my poor little imagination and, as my confidence grows, hope to build myself a small audience.   

I hope that those who do stop by, especially in the beginning, will be kind (read gentle) in their comments so that this can be a good and encouraging experience for me as I spread my wings.  My goal isn't to make a living at this (let's be realistic) but I'm hoping have some fun exploring my creative side.  That being said, any “real” writers who stop by who would like to offer tips will be thanked from the bottom of my heart.