Exclusive Sneak Peek at Keepin' Up Wae Mackenzies!

Hey reader! Thanks for stopping by the site. Here is an exclusive sneak peek at my upcoming book, Keeping’ Up Wae The Mackenzies!, a comedy about Scotland’s answer to The Kardashians.

Check it out on Amazon for pre-order or keep an eye here for updates!

Enjoy, take care and thanks for the support

Cx

Pre-Order on Amazon Here

INT. REALITY BITES PRODUCTION OFFICE - DAY

The Reality Bites Production Office is bustling. Nervous chatter fill the room, as the staff take their seats at the conference-room style table. Jo Levine rushes into the room, taking a seat next to Samuel Gerrard. 

“Has it started yet?” asked Jo, panting for breath.

“Not yet, darling. Sarah’s just doing her pre-meeting routine,” Samuel drawled.

Jo looked out of the conference room, to find their boss, Sarah staring in at them all. She pointed at her staff then performed the “slit throat” gesture, walking up and down. 

“This is new,” Jo said, raising an eyebrow.

Samuel nodded. “Mm-hm. HR said she wasn’t allowed to use one of us as a prop anymore. So, this is her new thing.”

“Any idea what this meeting is—” but Jo was interrupted as Sarah entered.

She dragged a toy plastic slide in behind her, which gets stuck in the door. She pulls at it, frantically. 

“What the fuck is she doing?” asked Jo.

“I never know anymore and I’ve stopped asking unless I have a drink in my hand.”

Sarah eventually gets it free, stumbling into the room. Regaining her balance, she then takes the pastries from the centre of the table and then, without explanation, drops them on the slide and lets them make their way to the bottom. 

“What does this represent?”, Sarah exclaimed.

A hand shoots up. 

“Losing weight.” It was Ben. 

“WRONG. Who else?” shouted Sarah.

Nobody else was brave enough. Yet. Except of course, Ben.

“Putting on weight?”

“NO. It’s got nothing to do with weight. Anybody?”

She runs out of pastries. Looks around, doesn’t find a suitable replacement, so points at Ben.

“Ben, come here a second. I need you.”

Ben stands.

“Get on the slide,” she demanded.

“Eh, I don’t think that’s designed for an adult Sarah.”

Sarah blinked. “Get on the slide.:

Ben fidgeted nervously. “I really—”

“SLIDE!”

Ben reluctantly and carefully starts to climb the slide. Gingerly, Ben starts to sit on it when--

--CRACK. The slide collapses, Ben with it. The room gasps, Sarah smiles.

“Perfect, good representation Ben. What does that represent?”

Jo, more in an effort to stop this, threw her hat in. “Health & Safety?”

“No.”

Samuel raised his hand. “Workplace bullying?”

Sarah shook her head and signed before screaming. “RATINGS!”

Samuel slumped in his seat. “Aw Christ.”

Sarah, triumphant, starts to march around the room. “That’s right people. Ratings. The ratings for our shows on our channel are slipping. Reality Bites used to be the pinnacle of reality TV! But no more. We’re bottom of the pile. So come on, what’s the plan? How do we improve viewer ratings? How do we get out audiences back?”

A whimper from somewhere on the floor. “Can someone help me?”

Sarah clicked her fingers. “Yes, Ben. Good idea, but those ideas have been done to death.”

Jo glanced around nervously, mumbling under her breath. “We could always diversify.”

Sarah stopped, behind Jo. “What’s that Jo? Speak up.”

Jo cleared her throat and sat up straighter in her chair. “Eh, oh, I just was saying we could diversify.” 

“Go on.” 

“I just think, if you look at our network, it’s all straight white men and women. We might see people search out our channel if we start representing more than that. We could look at the LGBTQ+ for a start.”

Samuel nodded. “Like RuPaul. Can we get RuPaul?”

Jo shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

Sarah clapped her hands. “I like this, but sadly we aren’t in a position to commission a slate of new shows. We need to work with what we’ve already invested in.”

Samuel shrugged. “Pity we can’t just use the folk we have already.”

Sarah took a sharp intake of breath. “Now there’s an idea.”

Jo looked at Sarah, confused. “Sorry what?”

“That’s exactly what we’ll do. And I know just the show we can try it on. Get your cases packed, you’re heading to Scotland.”

It's new episode day! Series Two, Episode Three is now live!

It’s Toasted Fiction Theatre Thursday!

Series Two, Episode Three is now live and it’s the second of our three Para Handy episodes! Have a listen below:

Toasted Fiction Theatre presents a No Nonsense Production of Para Handy: A Radio Play (Not) On Stage.

A radio play not on stage (on podcast) adaptation of Neil Munro's classic Para Handy tales.

The Master Mariner, Dougie the Mate, MacPhail the Engineer and Sunny Jim along with a host of other characters take to the airwaves courtesy of three plucky radio actors. This week's episode is The Malingerer

Adapted, directed by and starring Kevin Jannetts, along with Calum McVittie & Stewart Phillips.

Check out all things No Nonsense Productions on social media @nononsensepro and their website www.nononsenseproductions.co.uk

Subscribe, share and leave a review/rating of the Toasted Fiction Theatre podcast. Get in touch with us @toastedfictiontheatre or through e-mail on toastedfictiontheatre@gmail.com

You can also support the show via our Patreon page www.patreon.com/toastedfictiontheatre with as little as £1!

Created by Chris Patrick

Series Two produced by Chris Patrick & Ross Patrick

For all more content, including sketches and books, head to www.chrispatrickwriter.com

Series Two, Episode Two of the podcast is now live!

Episode Two of the second series of Toasted Fiction Theatre is now live!

Genuinely really excited to be producing a second series of the Toasted Fiction Theatre podcast (all episodes available here) and even more excited that we could involve fellow local Inverclyde talent No Nonsense Productions with a classic Para Handy tale - the first of THREE!

Check it out, have a listen and subscribe to the pod! If you could leave us a review in Apple Podcasts and let us know you’re listening on social media, that would be grand!

2.2: Para Handy’s Apprentice by No Nonsense Productions is a radio play not on stage (on podcast) adaptation of Neil Munro's classic Para Handy tales.

The Master Mariner, Dougie the Mate, MacPhail the Engineer and Sunny Jim along with a host of other characters take to the airwaves courtesy of three plucky radio actors. This week's episode is Para Handy's Apprentice. 

Adapted, directed by and starring Kevin Jannetts, along with Calum McVittie & Stewart Phillips.

Check out all things No Nonsense Productions on social media @nononsensepro and their website www.nononsenseproductions.co.uk

Subscribe, share and leave a review/rating of the Toasted Fiction Theatre podcast. Get in touch with us @toastedfictiontheatre or through e-mail on toastedfictiontheatre@gmail.com

You can also support the show via our Patreon page www.patreon.com/toastedfictiontheatre with as little as £1! 

Toasted Fiction Theatre was created by Chris Patrick

Series Two produced by Chris Patrick & Ross Patrick

Who Wants To Meet PM Harry McDonagh?

Election Night: Hopefully Not Based On True Events is out on Fri 6 Dec! Here’s an exclusive excerpt from my new comedy. Have a read, a laugh and order your copy below. Treat yourself, or someone who’s going to find it funny. But the question is…

…..Who’s ready to meet Prime Minister Harry McDonagh?

The Final Day of Campaigning

9.00am – 8.00pm.

Tony and Veronica loved Election Night. Tony took a half-day from work to make sure that their tenement flat in Springburn was spick and span, and stocked with supplies ready for the all-nighter of political viewing ahead. He would go for a quick shop at the Cost Cutter down the bottom of the street to pick up a bag of munchies (crisps, sweets, chocolate) a crate of beer, jar of cheap coffee, bottle of gin, bottle of lemonade and a carton of milk. Once he had everything he needed, he would head back to the flat and set down everything he had bought on the living room coffee table. By that time, it was 5.00pm and Veronica would be finishing work in a few hours. He would top off the preparations by placing an order with their favourite Chinese takeaway that Veronica would pick up on her way home. Perching the remote control on the arm of the chair, Tony put on the news and waited for Veronica to return home with the Chinese (an order big enough to last them all the way through the night – salt n chili chips, ribs, chow mein, sweet and sour chicken, vegetable spring rolls and a portion of fried rice with a side of prawn crackers). The Election coverage wouldn’t properly kick off for a few hours yet but that didn’t stop Tony consuming every bit of coverage there was on the final hours of voting. This was his Super Bowl. His World Cup Final. And he wouldn’t miss a minute of it. Whilst he waited for Veronica to come home with the food, he’d catch up with Twitter, starting with the Prime Minister himself.

Prime Minister Harry McDonagh @harrymcdonaghrealpm 

Followed by Donald J Trump, Alan Partridge, Kim Kardashian, The Krankies, Justin Bieber & 170 others you follow.

Prime Minister of Great Britain, #TeamThanos & Misses Entourage. Hates racism and feminism. Doesn’t know which ones worse.

The Toilet.

Instagram.com/doughnutmcdonagh

 Joined May 2010

69 Following   24.5M Followers

Prime Minister Harry McDonagh @harrymcdonaghrealpm 22h 

Election Day!   If ye dae wan thing today – get aff yer arse and vote! We are aff on one final day of campaigning – looking forward to our final trip across the country with my main man @mudmartin & my press secretary @sylviafleming with blogger @melissawells with us! 

Prime Minister Harry McDonagh @harrymcdonaghrealpm 21h

Remember, the other dafties havenae been in powur over the last 4 years like I have – they cannae even spell powur properly! Who would ye rather have representin’ ye aw ower the world, eh? People that have nae clue what it’s like to run the country? They’d run it intae the ground! Besides, they don’t look as good as me on yer GBH TV!

Prime Minister Harry McDonagh @harrymcdonaghrealpm 22h 

*HD TV! 

Prime Minister Harry McDonagh @harrymcdonaghrealpm 21h 

@politicallyyou I tweet how a talk – which is why people love me. I’ve goat the whole o Scotland ahint me! I’m real, genuine and a man o the people. Are ye naw better aff writing some proper articles about the election instead o criticizing the way folk talk?

Prime Minister Harry McDonagh @harrymcdonaghrealpm 21h 

Did anyone watch @keepingupwaethekrankies last night? Brilliant – two Scottish national treasures. Sorry @KimKardashian – I think The Krankies have got you beat! #teamkrankie #justkiddingkim

Prime Minister Harry McDonagh @harrymcdonaghrealpm 21h 

@ffred1876 So what if they put their keys in a bowl?  I don’t care if they are swingers - I grew up wae the Krankies – naebody does panto like they dae! Except Gerard Kelly! RIP  

Prime Minister Harry McDonagh @harrymcdonaghrealpm 18h 

We’re visiting polling stations across the UK just now! Tell us when you’ve voted! We’ve already cast our votes, haven’t we @sylviafleming & @mudmartin ?

Prime Minister Harry McDonagh @harrymcdonaghrealpm 18h 

@tonybartonpodcast @melissawells @sylviafleming @politicallyyou I’m naw overly concerned wae polls – they’ve been wrong in the past and they’ll be wrong again. The election’s just a formality – we’ll be back in that office for another 5 year!

Prime Minister Harry McDonagh @harrymcdonaghrealpm 18h 

See if I have tae shake another manky, sweaty hand the day I’ll be absolutely ragin! Honestly, if ye know yer comin oot to see yer Prime Minister on the campaign trail, would ye naw at least gie yersel a wee wash?

Prime Minister Harry McDonagh @harrymcdonaghrealpm 18h 

 Howling! @mudmartin & @sylviafleming are goin aff their nut cos that last tweet was supposed to be a text tae ma pals! Absolute riddy! Serious tho – a wee bit of antibacterial hand gel wouldnae hurt, would it? #electionday #accidentaltweet #mankyhands

Prime Minister Harry McDonagh @harrymcdonaghrealpm 15h 

Another polling station visited! Great to see so many people out voting and cheering our names – feel like a bloody rockstar! Honestly though, don’t gie me yer wean to hold. I’m a clumsy bastard – might end up drapping it! Plus they’ve got hunners o germs! Thanks everyone who came out to see us in Manchester! #electionday #thankyou #vote #keepyerwean

Prime Minister Harry McDonagh @harrymcdonaghrealpm 14h 

Absolutely knackering day so far! Worth it though – we can’t wait to get back in charge of the country and making change! We’ll build on the success we’ve already had!

Prime Minister Harry McDonagh @harrymcdonaghrealpm 14h 

My favourite book? I dinnae really read too much tae be honest – if they dinnae make a filum o it, it must be shite. I dae love one book but. Its cawed Rabbie Burns Would Be Fuckin’ Ragin’ by Carpet Burns. Scotlands next great poet – his poems are full o great patter! The next Rabbie Burns!

Prime Minister Harry McDonagh @harrymcdonaghrealpm 14h 

@partyjane_25 we don’t get a lot of chill time on the bus – but we’ve got Wi-Fi so we’ve either got the tunes blaring to keep us motivated or a boxset on in the background. But we’re mostly on social media or doin’ interviews or that! Keepin’ up wae the numbers! 

Prime Minister Harry McDonagh @harrymcdonaghrealpm 14h 

@gary_gordon West Wing? Thought it was about birds originally. Never seen it – I’m naw into political shows. Fave shows are Entourage, Two and a Half Men or reality TV!  

Prime Minister Harry McDonagh @harrymcdonaghrealpm 12h 

So far we’ve hit polling stations in Newcastle, Manchester and Glasgow! Few more and then we’ll be calling it a day. Get out there and vote for me while ye can! Ignore the polls and the rubbish the press are saying! We’re winning this – ye don’t want tae be on the losing side!

Prime Minister Harry McDonagh @harrymcdonaghrealpm 11h 

Here’s an idea – Snapchat Election. Ye can vote via Snapchat – don’t even need tae leave yer kip! If we get back in, that’s the future! Did I say IF? I meant WHEN!

Prime Minister Harry McDonagh @harrymcdonaghrealpm 11h 

Right so, I’ve just been sayin’ vote for me – which is right if yer in my constituency! But ye’ve also got tae vote for all my Party People! Aw yer MPs representing me – get them voted. They are good, crackin’ people! 

Prime Minister Harry McDonagh @harrymcdonaghrealpm 11h 

If ye don’t like the MP that represents our party – vote for them anyway and when we get back in power I’ll make sure they are sacked!

Prime Minister Harry McDonagh @harrymcdonaghrealpm 8h 

We’re done! Heading back tae No.10 and absolutely shattered but can’t wait for the results tae come in! I’ll be up all night – it’s like Christmas Eve!

Prime Minister Harry McDonagh @harrymcdonaghrealpm 8h 

Thanks to everyone who went out and voted today or came tae see us! For those who were flinging stuff at us – that’s remembered. I tried to send a middle finger emoji but Sylvia and Martin wouldnae let me! 

Tony laughed at almost every tweet, glad he had done his bit and voted to keep him in power. And he was bound to win. He was a popular figure, particularly in Scotland. That was probably why Tony loved him so much – he was from Springburn, just like he and Veronica were. He was a scheme boy done good. He’d been a credit to Springburn and to Scotland. Sure, the main thing he’d done was bring back The Bill, knight the Krankies and the cast of Still Game, put the sugar back into Irn-Bru and made Freddos 5p - but he'd still done his country proud. This was something Tony would tell Veronica often. 

“He’s done us all proud down there, V. He’s speaking for us normal folk!” And he had, he really had. That was, until he went mental and the mad bastard threatened to bomb the country with nuclear weapons because he never got voted back in. But we’ll get to that. 

Part 1: The Strangeness of Fredrick Street - Chapter Six

In Chapter Six, life begins to unravel on Fredrick Street, with Kim experiencing something strange.

6

The high pitched drone of the dishwasher as it finished it's cleaning cycle nudged Kim out of her mid-morning nap; a treat she'd grew accustomed to since falling pregnant. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she sifted through the pile of scripts on the coffee table for her phone to check the time. It was reading the scripts that had put her to sleep in the first place, the majority of them B-Movie slush that made Plan 9 From Outer Space look like Schindler's List in comparison. She didn't mind that she wasn't necessarily an A-List star strolling up red carpets with flashing lights and adoring fans. It was work and it paid the bills. But, with motherhood beckoning, she felt it was high time she made her way closer into the big leagues. Perhaps the wisdom, the inevitable adornment of crows feet and a few wrinkles that would be a result of impending motherhood could elevate her from straight to DVD-fare to more cinematic outings. Most mother's wailed about how their babies took away their youth, their looks and their figure but Kim was hoping that it'd take away from her almost Barbie doll sculpted features and let her get taken as a serious dramatic actor. She'd never tell the rest of the mothers this though; she liked them and liked that they liked her, which wasn't easy for Kim. She'd always found it hard to be friends with women, part of it was because they usually made an emotional bee-line straight to jealousy of Kim's looks and career but mainly because they probably found it hard to make friends with the woman who was on a poster in their teenage boys room wearing nothing but a bra and panties in her most popular film Even Zombies And Werewolves Like Strippers. As you could imagine, it wouldn't be easy welcoming the woman their husbands, fathers, sons and brothers fantasied about round for Sunday dinner. But hopefully, all of that was about to change. She had resolved never to do a film like that again, not with a baby on the way and certainly not after. 

Sliding off the couch, Kim left the living room and plodded into the kitchen to check on the dishes. After she gave birth, she should probably think about investing in a pair of sweats and some baggy t-shirts to walk about the house in, rather than in her underwear as she did currently. That kind of thing couldn't be good for a child's upbringing. Or perhaps it promoted a healthy body image and perspective on the human body? Kim wasn't sure, but she resolved to Google it later as soon as she got back from the hospital and pinned her new baby scan to the fridge, something that had become the favourite part of her day over the past few months. She glanced over at the 12 week scan that took pride of place in the centre of the fridge door and grinned so much she put the Cheshire Cat in Alice In Wonderland to shame. Kim couldn't quite believe it. All Kim and Mark had ever wanted was to start a family, build a life together and be with each other; everything she asked for was coming true and more with her high school sweetheart in tow. It was almost too good to be true. Almost. 

She popped the hood of the dishwasher and had a peek inside, pulling her head back as the steam billowed out like she'd been keeping a Steam Engine train hostage in close quarters and it was now voicing it's protest. Once the steam cleared, she poked her head in to inspect what she hoped was a treasure chest of clean dishes sparkling back and for the most part it was, barring the odd straggling bit of food debris clinging onto the plate for dear life. It would appear that, no matter how expensive their dishwasher or how many times they put on the cycle, they just couldn't get every piece of dirt washed away. Sighing, she flicked on the radio pulled out the trays and emptied the dishwasher, whistling while she worked like a modern day Snow White. Putting the clean dishes and cutlery back into their cupboards she took out the still dirty ones, filled the sink basin with hot soapy water, grabbed the scrubber and got to work. For all the griping, moaning and arguing that she and Mark did over whose responsibility it was that the dishes got so dirty and whose turn it was to clean them (one of the reasons they bought the damn dishwasher in the first place was to bring a certain level of peace to the household, although they still argued about who should fill it and who should empty it) Kim rather enjoyed the process of washing them by hand. It was cleansing, almost meditative. It allowed her to disconnect from the world around her, all the white noise that the world had become and allowed her to focus on just one thing. Of course, there wasn't a chance in hell she'd tell Mark this or she'd find herself chief dishwasher for life and she wasn't ready to give him the satisfaction, no matter how much she loved him. It was much more fun to see him squirm just a little bit.

Dipping her hands into the water, she started to clean the dishes and let her mind switch into a trance. Thinking about the baby, their own little bundle of joy that was just a few months away, a gift that was so close to unwrapping she ticked off the mental check list of things they needed to do before the baby was born. The nursery needed done, that was the main thing. Baby clothes needed bought (Kim was going to take up knitting but she couldn't get the hang of it – perhaps another problem motherhood would solve) and of course, the most important thing – the name. That was her favourite thing about this experience so far (even more than the scans) was lying in bed late at night with Mark, hand on her tummy and flicking through the book of baby names, or trolling the internet for ideas. Mark had found one he liked on a website for Greek mythology and near resolute that this was what the baby was going to be called. Even thinking about it now made her laugh. He'd sat bolt upright, and snapped his fingers. 

Mark. "I got it."

Kim laughed. "I bet you don't. But OK, go on then. I'll indulge you."

Mark. "I'm telling you, I 100% have it. You're going to hear it and think 'Mark, my god. You are right. You should be in charge of naming all the babies in the world from now. You should be Chief Baby Namer."

Smiling, Kim gave her best fake supportive stare. "Of course you will. Now are you going to continue to pontificate or are you going to tell me the name?"

"Pontificate? That's a big word for such a dainty little lady like you," Mark teased.

She hit him with a pillow then, knowing that he liked to wind her up like this. "Anymore of that and I'll pontificate you. Now are you going to tell me the name?"

He shifted, faced her straight on the bed and stared her in the eyes. "OK. You ready?"

"I'm sure I am."

Mark smiled. "OK. We're going to name our baby, wait for it, Andromeda. Andi for short."

The name hung in the air. Kim just looked at her husband, his big eyes pleading. "Well?"

Kim reached over and took the laptop from him. "Yeah I think you've had enough googling tonight."

"Come on. We can have a little Greek mythology set. Andromeda, Medusa and little Zeus."

She laughed so hard then that she thought she might break into early labour as he grabbed her and threw her back on the bed laughing and kissed her. It was a nice memory and she looked at those moments with such fondness that it was almost enough to convince her to name the baby Andromeda in order to remember the laughter and the kisses every time she called on her child. Common sense prevailed of course. Mark was always a little left field with names.

A scuffling, squawking and thumping noise from the porch distracted her from her trance and put her hazy eyed trip down memory lane to and end as she went to investigate. She knew it would be the cat, (it always was) and he started scratching on front of the door. From the sound of it, he had decided to bring them home a present, which usually came in the form of a field mouse or a robin red breast and always prompted the same response from Mark. "I wish he'd just get us a gift card." Not a joke that was all that funny but he'd worn her down with it that she couldn't help but giggle just a little whenever he said it. Approaching the front door, she could see through the frosted glass the outline of their cat standing over something that lay still, confirming her suspicions that it was indeed a little bird. However, opening the door, Kim took a step back and yelped out. In place of where she expected to see a robin or a mouse was a single, dead magpie. It lay there, it's black and white plumage stained with red and the blue green gloss of its tail feathers surrounded the dead bird in tatters. The cat looked from Kim to the bird curiously, wondering if she was happy with his gift. Kim simply stood and stared, her hand moving like a reflex to her baby-bearing belly. She wasn't the superstitious sort but even a tableau of this nature on her doorstep made her feel a little nauseous. It's just the pregnancy. Delayed morning sickness. She tried to convince herself. Pushing her worries to the back of her mind, Kim knew she had to clean it up before Mark got home, because he was the superstitious type. Pulling on a pair of yellow marigolds, Kim bent down to pick up the bird but before she could wrap her hand over the dead creature the cat had pounced forward, picked the bird up in his mouth and bounding off and out of sight. Kim watched him go and continued to stare as he found a little shading under the bush and plunged his teeth into the bird's chest and tore out the innards before ripping off the head. Tearing her gaze away, Kim shut the door and stepped back into the house, feeling a damn sight less calm than she had been moments ago. Throwing the marigolds into the cupboard, she returned to the kitchen, plunging her hands into the hot soapy water to soak off the bird, despite not having laid a finger on it she felt like the poor things blood was on her hands. As she washed, she tried to shake it out of her mind, the surrounding cloud of dark thoughts and worries. She wasn't superstitious but for some reason, this had shaken her a little. Was it a bad omen? About the baby? Something else? No. It couldn't be and it wasn't. It was just a cat being a cat, that's all. Nothing more than—

"Ow!" Kim retreated her hand from the basin as the water turned red. She'd slit her hand on a piece of broken glass, not that she remembered any glasses or mugs smashing as she washed them. Quickly, she ran it under the tap and wrapped it in a towel as she found the first aid kit and patched herself up. Emptying the basin into the sink, she gingerly picked up the piece of glass and tossed it in the bin. What a strange morning. She thought. But she could dwell on the thought no longer as she looked at the time and realized she had to leave for the hospital to make the scan in time.

Giving the sink a quick rinse, Kim put the rest of the dishes away and turned to give the baby scan on the picture one last look and a good luck kiss as she had developed a habit of doing. But it wasn't there. Frantic, she searched the kitchen high and low for the picture of her little baby. It had been there just seconds before, just before the whole incident with the magpie and the broken glass. Breathing, Kim forced herself to be calm. The picture would be there somewhere. And that's when she saw the corner of it poking out from under the fridge. It probably slipped under there in her commotion to patch up her cut. Bending down, Kim picked the baby scan back up and put it back in its place and gave it a little kiss. But before she turned to leave the kitchen, the sight of something out of the window staring back at her caused her to pause and look out. There, perched on the garden fence and staring into the kitchen was one, single magpie. Kim let her gaze fix on it for a few moments. There was something about the way it looked at her, like it was looking at her. After a minute, Kim forced herself to break eye contact with the bird and shake herself back into reality. She was being crazy. Maybe it was the hormones. Or maybe it was something else. No. It was the hormones. Her anxiety levels had increased due to the pregnancy that was probably it. She was looking for signs of things that weren't there. She'd ask the Doctor about it during the scan. Grabbing her jacket and keys from the kitchen's table, Kim started to head out of the kitchen and make her way out of the house to head to the hospital. Before leaving the kitchen though, she took one last look out of the kitchen window to see the magpie on the garden fence. But where the magpie had been moments before, perched on the wood and staring back at her, was nothing but thin air. Shaking any thoughts from her mind, Kim stepped out of the kitchen, out of the house and into the car, not giving the very strange events of her morning a single, second thought.