“Cold Tracks”

A Black Notebook Mystery

Susan couldn’t quite make out what she saw. An island of black floating towards a harbor on a sea of white. A sea of an alien landscape. Voices cried in the distance.

“Oh my God!”

The voices whispered past her in the chilled air. She couldn’t remember how she got her or even knew where she was.


A ship was already docked at the sharp black pier, its glistening white and yellow hull sparkled as dark waves beat against it.

“I didn’t see her! I didn’t see her!”

The intruding voices annoyed her. A corner of triangular red sun peaked over a beige mountain covered with black leafless trees.

“Don’t move her for Christ’s sake!”

A flash of a peaceful walk along a snowy road raced across her mind but it was gone in the warmth of her vision. Tiny yellow buoys in the white sea happily guided the black ship. In the east, a row of black and grey foothills rose and fell over a crystalline plain.

Far away an alarm, perhaps a docking horn, warbled. The sound sent unconscious waves of electricity down to her finger tips, but she couldn’t feel them in her toes.

Her vision cleared and the mystery began to unravel. Her eyes focused on the landscape for what it was: A sleeping mask she couldn’t live without, a half-burnt letter of an old boyfriend, a tiquilla bottle with a cute little hat she bought with her girlfriends in “Nawlins”, a CD she hated, a half-eaten pack of Skittles, a feather she found along the road, and her favorite little black notebook. She would never write in that notebook

“She’s not breathing. I think she’s dead.”

“I guess I should have had the rest of those Skittles,” Susan thought.

By Mike Shea

[Mike is a guest author @ Moleskinerie. This entry is not for competition]
Important Notice:

Deadline for this contest has been extended to March 15, 2004 to give ample time to prospective entrants.