“Okay,” Clara replied with no intent to push matters. “I should get going.”
“Be careful.”
“I w—(will)”
Before Clara finished, the angel of death was gone. While Eleanor could be summoned back, they both had something to attend to.
Clara looked out in the distance, as the sun broke appeared from over the horizon, she caught the silhouette of a high fence against the red sun. Just beyond were ruins of an old church, destroyed during a conflict that slipped through the cracks of history.
“Right,” Clara said. “Off we go.”

Disclaimer: This novel is an work in progress and readers may encounter grammatical errors and inconsistencies. Please view this a draft and not a published work.
Leave a Reply