New with Kathryn

Getting closer to the release of The Weight Of It All!

Kathryn’s MONSTER story – enjoy a little bonus!

A MODERN DAY MONSTER

She was seated in front of me, but to the side, I could have looked away, but I was transfixed staring into her eyes. Big beautiful blue eyes, eyes framed in thick black lashes. Eyes the color of a gemstone, a Caribbean sea, otherworldly, beautiful eyes. She looked so small sitting there, childlike, tiny. I remember putting my hand around her wrist, grasping it in my hand. My “man hands” too big and course to belong to a woman, I’ve always hated my hands, and her wrist in my hand was so delicate, like a fragile bird, with a quick twist I could have snapped it in two.

Her hair, the color of sunlight, almost too pale to be a color, shimmery, golden threads that fall to her waist in a waterfall of light. I couldn’t help but stare, no one could, like a movie star, a presidential candidate, a rock star, she commanded all eyes be trained on her.

It was her mouth that fascinated me most, that made chills run the length of my spine. Her perfect mouth, naturally lush lips, somewhat obscene in their fullness, their ripeness. Even without lipstick, they were a deep pink, an alluring pink that screamed, “kiss me, suck on me, have me.” Her lips were drawn into a smile, a slow smile that started lazily at the corners of her mouth, barely turning up, a deliberate smile, as her eyes grew colder her lips pulled up, like a marionette being pulled by strings, her lips pulled into a big smile showing perfect white teeth. A mocking smile, mocking me.

She knew I was there to tell them what I saw, what I knew. She knew I was the key witness to the reason for her being seated across, and to the side, from me. She had people around her, people who seemed substantial and real, who whispered into her perfect ears. She never changed her expression, never acknowledged their fervent whispers; she just stared. They didn’t seem aware they were seated next to a monster, either that, or they were monster handlers, trained for the job, monster whisperers.

It was my turn to talk, to tell what I had seen that day when I’d gone to her house, her perfect, neat house, not at all what I’d expected, I would expect a monster to live in a hovel, a dirty mess, a sewer, but I was wrong. My voice broke, just a bit, when I told them how I’d opened the closet, and I’d only opened it because of the flies gathered there, the buzzing incessant flies leading me there, to find the little girl hanging, dangling upside down, her naked body bloated and disfigured. The burns still raw and fresh, the flies having a baby buffet.

Two years old, two- hundred cigarette burns- they catalog these things. Dead for almost two days. Killed by a modern day monster.