This is not part of the Spinster House story. It is a starter piece I wrote for an online class I am taking. I hope you like it.
When I woke up, I was driving. The street in front of me was sparsely populated with other cars and drivers -- all who seemed not to notice I had just come to consciousness. I had not been and suddenly I was.
The yellow line of the road slid under the front corner of my car as it always did, disappearing only to reappear in the rear view mirror later. The cars to the side of me appeared to be travelling backwards as I remained still, but I knew (somehow) they were parked and I was moving steadily forward.
It is quite disconcertion to arrive anywhere when you have no memory of getting there, but it feels especially dangerous while driving a one ton vehicle. Add to that I had no idea where I was going and I was about to panic. Hands at 10 and 2, I breathed deeply and searched my mind for something.
I had to take stock of the situation. I obviously knew how to drive - the motion of the car, the traffic, lights, and stop signs came to me without thinking. I continued along the same road as though that was my intentional direction. I assumed I had pointed myself that way for a reason, so that way I went.
The car was neatly lived in and in good condition. It appeared to be small SUV with a thin layer of dust covering the dash and random bits of someone's life tucked here and there. An empty take-out coffee cup sat in the holder, a stray receipt, and a pair of sunglasses.
I was overcome with an additional panic when I glanced in the rear view mirror again and noticed a child's booster seat strapped in behind the passenger seat. My heart nearly stopped and my breathing definitely did.
I wasn't sure if the vehicle was even mine. If not, I had taken a car from a parent. If so, it was my car and that was even worse. Where was my child? Did I even have a child? I'm a parent??
As I pondered my impending motherhood, the GPS spoke out filling the silent vehicle with it's feminine voice. "Turn left in 50 metres."
I was glad someone knew where I was going.
Though I was hesitant to follow a disembodied voice, I seemed to be a rule follower as I turned obediently and followed the road for a short time before she announced (in her superior knowledge) I had arrived at my destination.
I pulled into the drive of a two story family home. White shutters encased large windows and complimented the soft yellow siding. A white porch circled the side of the house and disappeared from view. Two rocking chairs sat near a small table as though inviting friends to sit and get comfortable.
Off of the drive was a small red tricycle laying down in the grass. It seemed to be abandoned in a great hurry by a small person off in search of a grand adventure. My heart gripped in fear and I steadied myself again.
I heard a knock at the car window. Dark eyes of a handsome man stared at me questioningly. Beside him was a little girl with the same eyes and a streak of mud across her cheek. He cocked his head to the side and asked "Babe, are you coming inside?"
Karen discovers who she is and how much not remembering can hurt those around her.