This morning was a wet one. I’m rockin’ a black trash bag over my fleece, but I’m moderately dry.
Okay, so the cat stuck around. Uhg. I know. She was trying to use my body as a umbrella and I almost tripped twice so I did what I had to for safety. I fixed the problem..I didn’t want to, but I had to…
No. I didn’t kill her. I’m not a monster. She’s zipped up in my jacket, clawing me periodically when I jostle her too much. Enough about the damn cat.
I’m having a sit down for a minute after I had to make a run around a clique of especially moist plaguers. I ditched them when they got stuck in some blackberry bushes. Thorny brambles and paper thin flesh make a gruesome pairing.
I think I’m coming close to Big Sur. On one of the bigger hills, I looked right towards the ocean and could see the tip of a lighthouse. At least it means I’m not totally off course. I’ll let you know..
So, I saw someone in the woods.
I was quietly walking along when I had to clamp a hand over my own mouth to drown the scream that sprang from my chest. Only twenty feet from me a man no younger than eighty was just standing and starring at me. He wore an artsy assortment of accessories including a purple silk scarf tied at his neck. The ratty bib overalls really tied the ensemble together.
I immediately pulled the knife from my hip and waited for any movement on his part. He continued to stare.
I stared, he stared. It became awkward.
One waiting for the other to make a move. He finally brought his hand up, tipped his fedora, and said “Ma’am” in a deep raspy voice before turning and strolling the other direction.
He blended back into the bushy surroundings and was gone just as suddenly as he appeared. I was left feeling confused and wished I had the presence of mind to ask some questions.
And to beat all, he knew I was a woman! Here I thought my disguise was pretty convincing, I would have to keep a better watch out for strangers from now on.
Its dark and Big Sur Lodge is dead ahead a mile or two so I’m going to walk into town in the morning, when I’m fresh.
Tonight I comandeered a guest cabin that sits well away from a mansion. It’s cozy and has a small woodstove that I’m warming my soup on as I write. The cat is curled up by the stove awaiting her share of dinner. I’m tempted to make her catch her own meal.
My mind can’t help but dwell on the old man. He looked clean, healthy, and fed. So not my problem. But still.
Talk to you later friend.
Ps. I named the cat Jim after my exfiance. He liked free rides, bitched a lot and ate the food I worked hard to get also. I realize Jim the cat is a female, but I don’t really give a rat’s ass, it’s my stupid cat.
More to come….
A great blogging writer, Paul E. Bailey has created a sister story to this Apocalypse Diary. It’s written in a different style and in a different place but these stories share time and Zombie population. Please give this awesome story a read and continue to follow the characters adventures! Thank you.😊
Picture credit goes to http://www.hikinginbigsur.com