Clara closed her eyes and let her jaw hang loosely. It was an old trick that hunters used to further focus their hearing. As an angel she could pick up hearts beating and whispers behind closed doors. As a human there was nothing—
W-h-o…
Time appeared to stretch on as he spoke. In between every letter there was another sound, dull and brief. Wait. That’s not a single sound…
W-o-u-l-d…
The first part was heavier, as though striking the bass drum. Whereas the other was closer to tapping on a snare drum. At this speed they were separate and distinct, but the cadence between these two sounds was brief, and the repetition just as defined…
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.
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