The Eyes Of A Fetch (Excerpt 390) Concealing
“Marcus,” Says Destry as she walks into the art shop with two bags of groceries from the local store. “Marcus? Where are you?” She questions as if playing hide and go seek.
Looking around the gallery, she does not find him anywhere so she peeks in to see if he is in the workroom. With this small space being at the back of the gallery and without windows, the tiny room is rather dark except for a little lamp on the worktable. Its dim glow highlights a cup of brushes and several items for attaching picture frames.
“Marcus?” She asks again but just like before, she does not receive an answer.
Thinking he might be out back, she decides to go upstairs to the loft and put the food away. As she gets to the top of the spiral staircase, she sees an easel sitting in the middle of the room. A cream-colored cloth is hanging over it concealing the canvas from view. Taped in the middle of the cloth is a note that reads, “From My Window.”
“Now what is this?” She says aloud.
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