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Saturday, March 28, 2015
Friday, March 27, 2015
Short Story Fiction -page 3/12
Thursday morning had arrived and as usual, Ted had arrived once again on time. Ted was eager to see if Catherine was waiting at the bus stop. Much to his amaze, she was not there. This was so unlike her. Ted thought of her as though she was his own daughter and concern was now setting in. Tonight after shift, Ted thought he would stop by and check to see if she was alright.
They had told each other about their lives over the years and had become close as friends. Ted had asked Catherine several times throughout the years if she would join him and his wife for dinner, but Catherine always turned him down. Ted had not taken it personally, he knew that Catherine stayed to herself mostly. She was quite comfortable being alone. He always told her she was too young to be by herself all the time. She needed to get out there and meet some friends. Catherine would just stare ahead as if in a daze and ignore him. Ted would now get through his day and return later to check on her. Slowly he pulled out away from the curb and began his day.
Catherine awoke to a fuzzy head and found herself disoriented. She stared about the room noticing the familiar surroundings, her apartment though things were in dismay around the living room. Her mouth was dry and bounded by a cloth pulled tightly around her head. Her hands bound with some kind of rope, as she lied on the sofa. Lying there cold and confused by the position she now found herself in.
Catherine then forced herself to focus clearly on the situation at hand. Scared and alone she saw no one. Then all of a sudden, she felt a cold hand brush her face from above her. Startled, Catherine buried her head inward towards her chest. “Hello Catherine” said a voice of familiarity. “Did you think that I would not find you?” Catherine knew immediately that her efforts of changing her name and starting over had been for nothing. She had tried so hard to stay out of everyone’s view for so long. That is why she had not made any friends, or went out in public other than for work. It was Sal, her ex-husband. Sal had used her as a punching bag, for the first three years of their marriage. Catherine was so young when she had married Sal, not that she was much older now.
Sal had grown up in a very influential family in town. His parents were of strict upbringing. The usual story of what Prestige and money brought, and how it ruled your life in the social world. The love was scarce, but the money spoke volumes to anyone who would listen.
Thursday, March 26, 2015
Wednesday, March 25, 2015
Tuesday, March 24, 2015
Monday, March 23, 2015
Short Story - Fiction page 2/12 continued
It was a cold and rather windy morning, arriving from last night. September could be a beautiful fall day or feel as though winter was coming early. Ted knew she would be cold standing there waiting for him, so he tried his best to arrive a few minutes earlier than usual. When Ted arrived, Catherine was nowhere in sight. Perhaps she was running late this morning. Ted waited at the stop patiently stalling. The other passengers would begin to get antsy if he waited too long, as they too, had places to go. It was now going onto 6:55 and Ted could no longer wait for Catherine. He slowly started to pull out into traffic wondering if perhaps she was sick.
Catherine had decided to go out for a bite the night before with a friend from her apartment building Jean. They were not close friends but rather acquaintances, from passing in the halls to the laundry room where they both would do their laundry. Jean seemed friendly enough, and although Catherine did not like to go out much, at least by herself, she agreed to venture out for a bite to eat. They had not stayed out too late; 9:00 P.M. for Catherine did have to work the next morning. When they approached the apartment buildings entrance, Jean went her way and Catherine went hers. She had not planned on the cold wind rushing in that night; she had only a light sweater and a turtleneck long sleeve blouse, a pair of jeans and sneakers. Usually Catherine went out prepared for most any possible change to her routine, but not this night, September 16 Wednesday. Everything was but, a routine that day.
Catherine had only a short distance from the main entrance of the building to her apartment. She was always aware of her surroundings, and felt uncomfortable not being able to see clearly at night. Sometimes the shortest distance can seem forever. Just as Catherine was about to enter her apartment she heard a slight noise coming from the side of her building. Perhaps it was an animal scurrying through the leaves. She had not wanted to find out and suddenly her knees went limp. She found herself hurrying to get the key in the door to safety, her familiar surroundings. However, because she was so afraid, she could not steady the key long enough to open the door in time. When all of a sudden, the last thing Catherine remembered was someone grabbing her from the back and placing a clothed hand over her mouth.
Sunday, March 22, 2015
Saturday, March 21, 2015
Friday, March 20, 2015
Thursday, March 19, 2015
Wednesday, March 18, 2015
Tuesday, March 17, 2015
Stage 1: Short story-Fiction pg 1/12
There was mystery that surrounded
Catherine Stone. She was a quiet librarian in
Denver, Colorado. At the age of 25, single
In addition, no family to speak of, Catherine rarely went out.
She stood 5' 8" tall with a slender figure, brown hair,
as well as, brown eyes. She was pretty in a natural way.
She dressed very plain and wore no makeup, just a trace of
Pink lip-gloss she applied to her lips. Every day she would follow a rigid
Regiment, she would start upon waking up.
At precisely 5 A.M. every morning Catherine would
Rise and start the coffee maker. Her kitchen was small and
It had no windows, or a table or a bench to sit on.
Right outside the kitchen area, Catherine set up a folding table with only one chair. While the coffee was brewing, she would proceed to take a shower,
Make her bed and dress in the clothes she laid out carefully each night before.
It seemed so ‘old school’ of her at her young age. She would only have one piece of toast with one teaspoon of peanut butter on it every morning.
For her lunch, she would pack a sandwich consisting of tuna, which she shared with her cat Shedo, lettuce and a pickle. One apple and a napkin all-fitting into a paper brown bag. Double-checking to make sure the coffee machine was off; Catherine would gather her things and head for the door.
On Clemens Street, Catherine waited for her bus that would arrive at 6:45 A.M. Only twice in two years was it late in arrival. She knew the bus driver on her route, Ted Lincoln who worked for the transportation authority for twenty years. Ted would save her the same seat every morning across from him, by placing his jacket and papers on it, so he could small talk on her way into work. Ted was in his sixties, married to a wonderful women name Ruth for 55 years of bliss he would say. He would refer to her as his ‘bride’ when socially acknowledging her. As with Ted, Catherine also was never late, in all the six years she took his bus to work, come rain or shine, sickness of health, Catherine was there, but that was about to change...