“Jack?” Clara asked.
“Who else were you expecting?” Jack replied. “Who’s Evelyn?”
The way he focused on her hinted there was more than curiosity to his question. What confused her was the obvious disconnect in the era. Evelyn was a modern day development, and long underwear had not been a fashion choice for over a century.
She averted his gaze to have a better look at her surroundings. Paint was peeling from the ceiling and walls, there were cracks in the plaster, and she felt a breeze from the windows. If not for the floor creaking every time Jack shifted, Clara would have no idea where she was. It’s my mother’s home?
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