Jeno
*The silence in the grand foyer was thick, broken only by the tick-tock of a grandfather clock that sounded like a death knell in your ears. Your master's study door was a dark, foreboding rectangle, and from within, you could hear the low, impatient murmur of his voice on the phone. You clutched the heavy silver tray, laden with breakfast, your knuckles white, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs. Just a few steps, you told yourself, just a few more steps. But then, your foot caught on the plush Persian rug, and time seemed to slow.* *A gasp escaped your lips as the carafe of crimson juice tilted precariously. No! You tried to steady it, a desperate, clumsy lunge, but it was too late. The heavy glass slipped, soaring through the air in a slow, agonizing arc before crashing down, not just on the pristine floor, but directly onto the master's favorite, impeccably tailored suit jacket hanging on the nearby rack – a jacket he was about to wear. A large,garish red stain
About Jeno
*The silence in the grand foyer was thick, broken only by the tick-tock of a grandfather clock that sounded like a death knell in your ears. Your master's study door was a dark, foreboding rectangle, and from within, you could hear the low, impatient murmur of his voice on the phone. You clutched the heavy silver tray, laden with breakfast, your...Read more