I stifled another yawn as struggled to keep my eyes on the road. The sun had finally set somewhere behind me and normally I wouldn't be so tired this early in the evening, but the past five and a half hours on the road was starting to get to me. Another three hours behind the wheel was going to be rough.

Setting out to drive home as soon as the conference was over seemed like a good idea at the time. I'd spent two and a half days stuck in a suit and tie, schmoozing with clients and prospects, coworkers and bosses, and I hated every minute of it. It all felt so fake, so artificial, and so very much not me.

It was unavoidable though. I was Mr. Blake at work, at least until I worked up the courage to come out. And as much as I wanted to be out to my customers and colleagues, as much as I wanted them to know me as Ms. Blake, or by my chosen name rather than...the name on my drivers license, I knew that day might never come. I just wasn't that brave, and inertia was a hell of a thing.

Part of me longed for it though. I had a beautiful name picked out. Nisha. It meant night, and I thought it sounded unique and exotic. I tried to picture myself with my hair grown out long, in my imagination it was raven black and silky smooth and it hung down to my lower back. In reality it was short and there were already streaks of grey in it, but I'd experimented with dye and knew it looked good in black.

Those were just dreams though, and the sad truth was I found it easier to just go with the flow and not rock the boat. Easier to come up with endless justifications and excuses about how the depression and dysphoria weren't that bad.

So in the two years since I figured myself out the only people who knew the truth were some close friends I'd made online, my therapist, and of course my daughter.

Danica was the other reason I was in a hurry to get home. I knew she'd probably be staying up late to greet me when I came in the door, even though tomorrow was a school day.

The next yawn slipped out before I could stop it, and that was followed by a sigh. I should have stayed in Chicago one more night. I could have had a decent sleep in the hotel room, then set out well-rested first thing in the morning.

For that matter I could have just flown. I could have expensed it, the whole thing was for business after all. But I hated the hassle of airports and taxis. And they'd never pay for business class, economy was the best I could hope for. Driving was just more comfortable. Lots of leg-room, good sound-system in the mini-van, and I could stop for a meal or take a break whenever I wanted.

Speaking of, I spotted a sign for the next rest-stop ahead. The mini-van had over a quarter tank left but I could stretch my legs and grab a snack. And I'd just passed Chatham, I knew there was a lot of long straight boring highway ahead of me. The way I'd been yawning, I figured a coffee wouldn't be a bad idea all things considered.

Two kilometres later I pulled off the highway and into the rest area. I topped up the gas tank first, then drove around and parked near the entrance. The early June evening air was crisp and that helped wake me up a bit as I walked to the main entrance. I visited the restroom as soon as I was inside, then stood in line at the coffee counter.

It was a popular chain but I didn't much like their coffee. It always tasted slightly burnt to me, but I figured an extra large double-double ought to see me through another three hours on the road. I grabbed a vanilla glazed donut as well. Then I turned and headed for the exit, but stopped just inside the doors.

I hadn't noticed them when I entered, but they had a whole bank of little bulk vending machines next to the entrance. The first row were all the twenty-five-cent ones that dispensed gum and candy and nuts, while the second row were the larger capsule vendors, about half were loonie machines and the other half charged a toonie. And they were all filled with various cheap toys, temporary tattoos, stickers, that sort of thing.

Danica and I had sort of a silly tradition from back when she was seven or eight years old. Every time I went on one of these work trips, I'd get her a toy from one of these capsule machines. I'd bring it home still in the plastic shell so she got to be the first one to crack it open. I honestly thought she'd have grown out of it years ago. Her eighteenth birthday was coming up next month, but I knew if I didn't have a silly little toy for her when I got back she'd pout and pretend to be upset.

Awkwardly holding my coffee and donut in one hand I reached into my jacket pocket with the other, and pulled out a handful of coins. Most of my loose change was American, but I'd just got two toonies and a few mixed coins in change at the coffee shop.

It only took a moment to pick which machine I wanted. The one at the end was full of an assortment of miniature key-chain-sized plush animals with a sort of anime theme, and I knew my girl would love that.

I dropped a two-dollar coin in the slot and gave the knob a twist. There was a satisfying ker-chunk and a capsule appeared in the chute. I pulled it out and had a look through the frosted plastic. I grinned, at what I was pretty sure was a silver tabby-cat.

My girl loved cats, she'd been bugging me to let her adopt one for a year or two. I liked cats too but I wasn't sure Danica was responsible enough to look after one, and I worried about our furniture being damaged by claws and scratching.

The capsule went into my jacket pocket, but since I had another toonie I figured I may as well splurge. I tried the same machine, I was expecting a puppy or a little bear or maybe a bunny this time, but instead ended up with a second tiny plush cat. This one was a black cat, so it wasn't exactly the same. That went into the same pocket, then I finally made my way back out to the van.

Twenty minutes later I was yawning non-stop as I continued slowly making my way east down a long straight dark stretch of highway. The donut was too sickly sweet and as expected the coffee tasted burnt. And neither had done a thing about waking me up.

It was almost half-past ten and I was too tired to do the math to figure out when I'd actually get home. On the other hand I was awake enough to realize that I'd never get home at all if I didn't stop and get some rest.

I pulled off at the next exit, but in my drowsy state I forgot to actually check whether there were any amenities, and if so which direction to turn. I randomly picked left and followed whatever side-road I was on for some ways north. It took me five or ten minutes to realize I had no idea where I was, and by that point I was much too tired to head back to the highway and try again.

I pulled off to the side and just parked the van where I was. I sent a text to Danica and let her know I'd stopped to get some rest, and I told her not to wait up. I'd be home in the morning and she could greet me then.

With that done I set my phone down on the little shelf under the radio then opened my door and got out. I slid open the back door and climbed in, then shut the door behind me and tried to get myself comfortable.

My tie was the first thing to go, I had no idea why I hadn't pulled the damn thing off the minute the conference ended. Then as I struggled to get out of my jacket I heard a plastic crunch from one of the pockets.

"Ah crap," I sighed. I'd forgotten Danica's souvenirs were in there, and from the sound of it I just crushed one of the capsules.

Quietly cursing my big clumsy ungainly self, I carefully pulled the two toys from the pocket. The silver tabby was still safely enclosed in its plastic shell, but the black cat had been freed and its capsule reduced to a handful of frosted plastic shards.

I leaned forward between the front seats and placed the intact capsule in the passenger-side cup holder, then in my half-asleep state I stared at the small plush black kitty in my hand. It was simple and cheaply-made, and hung from a little black nylon loop with a plastic key-clip at the end. It was kind of cute though, and I could see how these sorts of things appealed to some folks. I could imagine clipping it to my purse, if I'd been brave enough to carry one.

The plushy looked to have been knitted entirely from black yarn, with two bright little green knots for eyes. The eyes must have had some sort of metallic threads in them, as they seemed to almost sparkle in the moonlight. The head and body were stuffed with something soft, while the legs and tail were loose and kind of floppy.

"Meow," I told it, then I rolled my eyes and chided myself for acting silly. With another yawn I mumbled, "Blame it on the tired."

Not knowing what to do with it, I ended up leaning forward between the seats again and clipped the little plush toy to my key-chain which was still hanging from the ignition. And finally I made sure the mini-van's doors were locked, then folded the back of the bench all the way down behind me so I could stretch out.

The last thing I did before falling asleep was I finally got my jacket off, then draped it overtop of me and closed my eyes.

I'd only meant to have a quick catnap. I figured an hour or two would be enough then I'd be on the road again, so I was a little surprised to find bright sunlight outside when I finally opened one eye.

The other surprise was just how comfortable the second row seats in the mini-van turned out to be. I'd swear I hadn't slept that well in ages. Possibly ever.

I took a deep breath then let out a quiet sigh, it was honestly a tough call whether or not I wanted to get up and finish my trip home, or if I'd just close my eyes and go back to sleep a while more. Then I remembered Danica would be waiting, and I decided I needed to get moving again. I was also a bit hungry, but I knew London wasn't too far away. I was sure I'd find an assortment of fast-food restaurants open for breakfast there.

With another quiet sigh I climbed out from under the clothes that I'd been curled up inside and got to my feet. I took a few seconds for a really good stretch, then hopped from the back seat onto the centre console and finally stepped onto the drivers seat. Then I sat down and for the next several moments I stared at the steering wheel and dashboard.

Something felt off, but I wasn't sure yet what it was.

Like when you're trying to say something and the word's on the tip of your tongue but you just can't find it, I sat and frowned at the steering wheel and tried to figure out what I was missing.

I looked down at the pedals below the dash, nothing seemed wrong there. I stood up on the seat and leaned on the steering wheel as I peered over the dash and out the windscreen. I was in the middle of nowhere on some country road, there was a copse of trees to my right and a farm to the left. More farms were visible ahead. After a few seconds staring out the window I sat back down on the seat once more.

Despite how tired I was last night I could still remember pulling off the highway. And even if I didn't know where I was, I knew the highway was behind me. I just had to turn around and head back the way I came. And if I was really stuck, I could always check my phone's GPS.

After a few more seconds I decided whatever I was missing, it could wait. I needed to get going. All I had to do was start the van and get back on the road.

I couldn't quite reach the keys from where I was, so I stepped onto the centre console then over the shifter knob. I reached out to the key-chain that was still hanging from the ignition, and gently bapped it.

The keys swung back and forth and caught in the sunlight that was coming through the window, and the little plush kitty jiggled alluringly with the movement. Just like that I was hooked, and for the next minute or two I happily bapped the keys and plushy back and forth. At one point I was balanced awkwardly while I bapped with both hands, until I got a little too enthusiastic and lost my balance.

I ended up on the floor under the dash, and even though there wasn't anyone else around to see my clumsy fall I was still embarrassed enough that I had to act like I meant to go down there all along.

I poked at the pedals a few times, as if I was inspecting them to make sure everything was in order. Then I hopped back up onto the drivers seat again, curled up and started cleaning the sleek black fur on my tail.

My tail didn't actually need cleaning, but it was a good way to pass the time while I tried to figure out what was off this morning. Something wasn't right, and I still hadn't been able to put a paw on it.

And that's when it finally hit me.

I didn't feel shocked or scared or even all that worried. The thing I felt most was embarrassment. I'd somehow turned into a little black cat in my sleep, and I didn't notice until I was curled up into a small black fuzzy ball on the drivers seat of my mini-van, licking the tip of my black furry tail.

PurpleCatGirl

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