Was He Trying to Kill Me?

I slipped into my 2015 Honda Pilot and backed out of my parking spot, unsure when I would return. Leaving the lot I turned right, heading toward the highway. I still hadn’t taken the time to figure out what I should do, but instinctively I felt I should leave town. I knew if I headed North there would be hotels not far from the highway.

Some time alone should help me evaluate the situation more objectively.

I had been lost in thought, again, almost missing the next turn. This was becoming a common occurrence. What was wrong with me?

I turned to the right at the last minute, my tires screeching on the pavement. Spying a car behind me do the same, my heart started to pound in my chest. It was a silver Porsche, just like Clay’s. This was not an affluent neighborhood. Luxury vehicles stood out among the more practical minivans and sedans common for the families living in this area.

What was he planning to do?

As the question formed in my mind, his car drew closer, dangerously close in my opinion. I sped up to increase the distance but he immediately closed the gap. Going well over the speed limit on a largely residential street I was afraid to accelerate much more.

Looking in the rear view mirror I was unable to be sure the driver was Clay as he was wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap. It had to be him though, didn’t it? What was he doing?

As his car came within inches of mine, I was suddenly sure he was going to hit me and I braced myself for the impact. Seconds before our vehicles collided he swerved into the other lane. Fortunately there were no oncoming cars. He blew past me then cut back over just a breath away from my front bumper.

As he did, he slammed on the breaks. Shocked by what was happening as he passed me I had already started to lose speed, but I was still forced to veer into the empty parking spaces to my right in order to avoid a crash. Fearing a confrontation I turned right just as he crossed the next street at the end of the block.

Although I was relieved that I’d been able to prevent a wreck I didn’t allow myself time to celebrate. It was clear that my impulse to run was justified. Now I just had to get to the highway before he found me again.

This post is in response to the daily writing prompts Spying and is part of something longer I am working on.

This post is a part of the story about the ex and comes after Was It Time to Say Goodbye to the Past?


Today’s word of the day!

Word of the Day Challenge

Today’s word of the day is Spying.

Please create a pingback to your post by including a link to this page in whatever you are posting.

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Was It Time to Say Goodbye to the Past?

Thinking about it as I sat there, my relationship with Clay was redolent of my past affair. In both I had made assumptions. I had been quick to fall in love with the person I thought they were, without taking the time to truly get to know them. I had been infatuated with the romantic image of being the girlfriend of a wealthy older man.

Was money really that important to me? Was I incapable of learning? Had I not changed at all in the past 10 years? Was I destined to repeat the same pattern my whole life?

I was going to have to figure that out, but at the moment there were more pressing matters. Apparently Clay had not believed me when I had told him I’d be back after I left the cafe. He had obviously come to my apartment when I was at the police station, but had not stayed. I considered the possibility that this would be the end, but my intuition told me he would not be dissuaded so easily.

Looking around, I was sad that I would once again be leaving my quirky little apartment. I had been happy there, or I suppose more accurately I had thought I’d been happy there. Maybe what I’d really been doing was hiding, barricading myself from the world, protecting myself from being hurt.

The realization flashed through my mind without conscious effort, but deep within me I felt the truth of the idea. Lilly had tried to tell me as much over the years but stubbornly I refused to admit it. I had argued that I still went out, saw my friends, went to work. But maybe I was starting to understand what she had been trying to say.

Standing I picked up my backpack. I briefly contemplated what I might want from my home while I was away. Realizing I’d been without everything there for weeks I decided it was better to walk away from it all. I wasn’t sure how long I’d be gone, but there was nothing there I truly needed.

I grabbed the keys from their hook next to the door, then paused with my hand on the knob. Looking back over my shoulder at the quaint space that had been mine, I sighed with resignation. Like it or not, my life was about to change. I would no longer be able to hide in my sanctuary.

A tear slipped down my cheek as I left my past life behind me.

This post is in response to the daily writing prompts Redolent and is part of something longer I am working on.

This post is a part of the story about the ex and comes after How Do I Know if It’s Love?

Close Up – Tuesday Photo Prompt

Today’s photo prompt! Join us!

Word of the Day Challenge

Today’s theme is “Close Up” … this is of one of my new neighbours up close and personal … or it could be a micro take on anything.

But a close up of bark, a friend, a texture or the traffic. 
  This week share your photos on “Close Up”?


Use my above photo to get creative  … write a poem, prose, flash fiction, etc.

Come on the more the merrier, please share and read each others photo posts!

Please complete before next Tuesday using a pingback to link your post.
Not sure how to do that then see how to create pingbacks here.

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How Do I Know if It’s Love?

I had no idea what love really was. My one relationship, if you could call it a relationship, had been such a failure I had seldom dated afterward. I had thought that was love, had actually believed we were going to get married and live happily ever after. The truth turned out to be too humiliating to handle.

It had begun the year my mother passed away. I had been 28 at the time, still deeply affected by my mother’s death even though 7 months had passed. I had barely left my apartment except to work. My friends had been concerned about me, but I told them I needed time to deal with my loss. She had been my best friend, my biggest supporter, and I felt lost without her.

At the time, I was working for a law firm as a receptionist and a man had come into the office for a meeting. As he waited he’d leaned against my desk chatting with me. It wasn’t until a coworker returned from showing him into the conference room bubbling with excitement that I even considered his conversation might be something more than a way to kill time.

Before he left he once again stopped in front of me, this time to invite me for a drink after work. I was flattered but also flustered. He was clearly a successful older man. What could he possibly see in me? But with my coworker nodding her head exaggeratedly behind him it was difficult to say no.

That night began what I thought was a romantic love affair. It turned out he was a businessman with dealings all over the world. He had homes in several countries, and rarely spent long in any one place. But over the almost 2 years we were together we would spend virtually every night he was in town in his magnificent penthouse apartment overlooking the city.

I had been so sure he had been in love with me. He brought me lavish gifts from his travels and emailed me often when he was away. It had been a complete shock the night I’d received the phone call, the anonymous woman on the other end of the line telling me to leave her husband alone.

I refused to believe what she had implied, but after some internet searching I found a Facebook page that was hard to refute. When I confronted him about it he didn’t deny it, didn’t even have the decency to apologize. I had been heartbroken.

Because of this, I had an abiding distrust of men and relationships. I avoided becoming romantically entangled with anyone, which is why what had happened with Clay had been so surprising. Surely now that I was approaching 40 my judgement had improved. Hadn’t it?

This post is in response to the daily writing prompts Abiding and is part of something longer I am working on.

This post is a part of the story about the ex and comes after What Did He Say in the Letter?

Bravely Living an Amazing Life!