[Kätzchen]

"Isn't that how it always goes?" was the thought in her head, as she drove down the highway with the window down - letting the fresh air swish past her in the car. Having had the worst day in service at the Cellular Center (a five hour ordeal), she decided to take the scenic route home that afternoon. Although she had an engagement to attend in the evening at a museum honoring the Chinese New Year, she felt it wise to wind down the road, looking for signs of spring appearing in the surrounding old growth forest; protected now for legacy’s sake.

As the road curved even higher toward the skyline in the hills, she noticed the cattle grazing in pastures that were graced by trees and brooks of water. Even once she came across an owl, perched on the telephone lines by the road side, looking intently off in the field at its prey. Suddenly, there seemed to be a car following her in the distance in her rear view mirror. The only reason she noticed was the fact that her lips felt dry and she was applying a little lip balm with the aid of the mirror.

"hmm... I recognize that truck," as she wandered in thought on her way back to town.

Not too far into the drive, that she did when she wanted to collect her thoughts and to unwind from the busy events of the day, she pulled over to a secret entrance she once found on this road. It led to a lonely empty park that once was used in earlier years she imagined. After all, this was an historic highway; once the only road available to motorists back then.

As she pulled into the lane that led to the lone park, she realized that the old rustic table had been moved to another place - further down the path for walking. She parked the car, grabbed her sweater and a fresh cigarette to smoke and locked the car door and ventured over to the table. Curious as to why the table had been moved, she slowly entered the area where the table had been originally. Carefully, like a slinking cat, she took in all the details of the shrubs and looked for clues on the ground. She followed a trail left by the moving of the table and noticed a lone stiletto off in the underbrush. Now, what the hell had happened since the last time she was here???

As soon as she noticed the stiletto shoe, she heard the cracking of leaves and twigs behind her and of course, the hairs on her arms and the nape of her neck stood at attention. Sizing up the area, she dared to look behind her as she heard the approaching footsteps.

Turning around, to take in the total picture of who it could be that was approaching her, her frightful thoughts of the intruder at her secret spot were dispelled: For at once, she recognized the womyn as being the dark and handsome butch womyn from a New Years gathering in the woods from the prior year. She smiled at the womyn and was greeted by the acquaintance with a brief hug from hir and watched hir slowly raise her hand to kiss it.


But as soon as her hand had been kissed by the butch womyn, she was immediately scolded for being out there alone!

"What are you doing out here today?" s/he asked?

"Well, what are you doing here too?? I thought I might have recognized your truck, but I thought you were on your way home for the day, and I hurried to my secret spot on the highway before you could know I had turned off to visit here."

"Last week, I came by this part of my property to check on some things and noticed that the table had been moved. When I saw your car up the road in front of me, I wondered if it was you who had been here and lost your shoe. So I pulled over to this area, and sure enough, here your car was, and I hurried to make sure you were alright," s/he said.

"No, it wasn't my stiletto: I had a horrible experience today with a service provider in town, at the local cell phone store and decided to come out here and sit at the table and do some day dreaming and relax before I went home. I was planning on attending the Chinese New Years exhibit at the Museum, tonight. I was wondering what had happened out here, since I know hardly anyone comes here; except those of us who know about this deserted park to enjoy. Do you know what happened here?"

The butch womyn looked intently at her and breathed slowly. S/he looked her up and down and then took her by the arm and said: "Let’s get you back to your car and see you home. Something did happen here and I need you to steer clear of this place until I have the local police finish their report about what happened out here."

Feeling really violated that the secret spot on hir property had been the place of some unusual and dark happening that the butch womyn refused to comment further on, made her feel lucky that she had been followed by the person she thought she knew to be the owner of the truck in her rear view mirror.

She got in the car and waved goodbye to her acquaintance, her butch friend and made more mental notes of the secret park area in her range of view; then got back on the road and drove back to town while the sun was setting over the ridge of pine trees.


Although the sun was setting and the air was getting cold, she lit another cigarette, turned on the headlights and then turned on the radio to listen to soft music. It was just then that she noticed something that almost had completely escaped her total attention: she was warm and getting rather hot and noticed that her garden was beginning to get moist and wet. Even though she was driving as fast as she could, her mind spun a thousand versions of what had just happened to the distant mellow voice singing a romantic tune on the station her radio was tuned to.


Dearest Dairy,

Today was a strange day in paradise: although I have yet to make it to the museum for the exhibit tonight, i wonder what really happened out there in the woods today? I hope that whatever happened had a consensual ending because only those in our community know of this lone Eden in the forest. Last night I asked where my lover was and tonight I ask you again, Dearest Diary: do you know who my lover is? So many times I tell only you my inner most secrets because only you, Dear Diary, know all that is in my heart. But tonight I ask you, yet again:

Dearest Diary, was that Him?