The Van Helsing Conjecture – Excerpt No. 37

Since she did not want to wake up Evelyn, Clara sat up slowly and tucked in her wings once she manoeuvred to the end of the bed. She stretched out her arms, yawned silently and placed her feet onto the cold marble floor. 

Clara grabbed her phone, and confirmed there were no other notifications other than the reminder for an appointment. Part of her was disappointed that Julia had yet to reach out, but it had only been a couple of weeks.

As she walked on the tips of her toes towards the on-suite bathroom. She was half way there, doing her best to be quiet as a mouse when the cat was lurking about, when two words shattered the silence.

A cinematic, high-contrast photograph of Mouse, with its tiny paws and twitching whiskers, sneaking silently across the worn, honey-brown wooden floor, bathed in warm, soft light, as a sleek black cat sleeps peacefully in the background, its fur fluffed up and paws curled, oblivious to the mouse's presence, with the surrounding area blurred to emphasize the stealthy movement of the mouse, and the cat's serene slumber, capturing the subtle tension and contrast between predator and prey in a fleeting moment, with a shallow depth of field to isolate the subjects from the blurred, muted background.

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.



Comments

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Search