Day 193: 19 May 2026

 Short story -- One night

The sun was setting behind the hills, casting its oranges and pinks across the sky.

Millie sighed contentedly as she walked along the side of the road.

Another good day, she thought to herself.

If she was remembering correctly, not too far ahead, there should be a stream and she’d make camp there for the night.

Sure enough, as she rounded the bend, there was the stream and a copse of trees.

‘Perfect,’ she smiled to herself.

She walked off the road and down to the copse. After a brief minute of surveying and stomping a bit, she slipped off her pack. She started gathering supplies for a fire and unrolled her blanket.

The fire crackled merrily as she grilled a few fish from the stream. And the stars twinkled brightly, freckles across the dark night sky.

‘You don’t see skies like this in the city,’ she said to herself.

Some people found a life on the road lonely, and it certainly was from time to time, but Millie had found more often than not that travelers make friends and break bread together easily enough for whatever part of the journey they were headed in the same direction. And she didn’t mind the solitude every now and again.

Fish finished and things tidied, she pulled a book out of her pack and settled near enough the fire to read a bit.

It was then that she heard a mewing sound.

She glanced up and around and her eyes alighted on a grey cat that was walking along the road. It was pompously sauntering towards her campsite.

‘Hello, cat!’ Millie greeted, extending a hand. ‘I’m sorry to say that you’ve missed supper.’

The cat meowed ruefully but butted her hand with its head genially enough.

‘Would you like me to read to you?’ Millie asked.

The cat curled up next to her and purred, which she took to mean yes.

Eventually, Millie decided it was time for bed. She packed away her book and stretched out under her blanket. She offered a bit to the cat as well.

She slept well that night. Better than she usually did when solo on the road.

So she was surprised after getting out of her blanket cocoon to see boot prints a few feet from her camp. There were several pairs, but none of the wearers entered her camp space or appeared to have even realised there was someone camping there. She could tell because the toes of the prints never faced where she’d slept.

The cat wound itself through her legs, purring and clearly pleased with itself.

‘You’re not a regular cat, are you?’ she bent down to scratch behind its ears.

And she could have sworn that the cat winked.

‘Well, thank you kindly,’ Millie answered.

The cat nodded.

‘Shall we make some breakfast?’