THE WHITE KNIGHT - An Excerpt from "Miles to Go"

An excerpt from "Miles to Go," in which our character Karen attempts to obliterate her current reality in favor of fantasies and illusions.

After leaving the mall, Karen drove dispiritedly around, not sure of her destination. Finally she spotted a cheery sign, Promises, and decided to go in. Maybe it was a “sign” of another type…It twinkled on and off in the early twilight and seemed to symbolize warmth and comfort. After she parked her car, she tentatively approached the large wooden door with its oversized hardware. When she pushed it in, it required all of her strength.


Taken aback by the heaviness of the door, she hesitated inside while her eyes adjusted to the darkness. It was early evening and the bar was almost empty. That was all the better, she decided, as she resolutely selected a barstool near the corner of the bar, just where it swept back to form a semicircle around the bartender’s private domain. She felt a little out of the way, but could still see people coming and going; later, if there was music, she had a good vantage point for viewing the band. She ordered a glass of white wine and while she waited, she glanced around, settling in for whatever happened next.

She had started on her second drink, when she noticed that people had started filtering in. At first it was gradual. But as the twilight turned into night, a general upsurge of activity centered on the stage; band members began setting up equipment and just when she had adjusted herself to the relative quiet, the strains of music began. She turned slightly on her barstool to get a better look and soon became engrossed as the band began playing songs from more than a decade ago. These triggered reminders of a past, a time before Ashley, a time when James Fontaine had controlled her life. She almost got up and left, but someone blocked her. Glancing up, she saw a smiling face; a cocky grin, actually. Momentarily intrigued, she sat back down, while the young man wearing a cowboy hat and boots bought her a drink and swung himself onto the barstool next to her.

Soon she was dancing, swaying to the dulcet sounds of soft rock and country and allowing herself to be seduced by the music, the wine, and the charming banter of the man. He could be any man, actually, who happened to say just what she needed to hear. A part of her knew that it was a con, a mating dance, but she didn’t resist. She wanted to forget everything else except this very moment, when someone with a smooth silky voice and strong arms propelled her along the dance floor, making her believe for a little while in the white knight and happily ever after.

LAUREL-RAIN SNOW'S CREATIONS