An interview with destiny …

Louvre France(Found on Pinterest)

I really enjoyed the movie ‘I, Frankenstein’. I really like how the gargoyles came to life- it was very creative. When I saw this picture I was reminded of the movie and wanted to create my own fantasy-style piece.

‘5.o’clock.’ Cary glanced at her watch again, just to make sure. She was running late for a very important interview and she couldn’t afford to be behind schedule.
Cary Shaheen had not recently moved to Paris to work for a magazine; and yet, she still found it difficult to find her way around the streets. As her feet trod the familiar path to the underground train station her heart ached slightly for home. It was not a trait that most people would be proud of, but Cary was very pleased with herself for knowing the London Underground tube map off the top of her head. Below her she could feel the stairs tremble slightly and she knew her train was just pulling up to the station. The familiar metallic screech of the wheels of the train against the rail had her heart pounding wildly, she quickened her pace and skidded in front of the train doors just as they opened.
“Desole,” She said timidly as she pushed past a large group of business men and squeezed onto the carriage. She pulled her blouse up a little and wrenched down her ‘just-over-the-knee’ skirt, just to make sure she avoided any embarrassing incidents. Her mind trailed to the first time she had ridden on a Paris train, and he cheeks burned at the memory. It was a breezy Monday morning, and Cary, as usual, was running a little late for work. Running like a maniac, she had made it on the train just in time, panting like an out-of-breath pug, and squeezed her way into a group of businessmen in sharp suits. She had thought that it was a Paris custom for men to smile and stare at girls until she had realized that her shirt buttons had come undone and her undergarments were showing. Looking down at herself she could see that all of her buttons were securely fastened, and even though she must look a little disheveled, at least her clothes were in order.

Cary slipped her hand into her bag to pull out her compact mirror, checking her self in the mirror she felt she still looked quite decent despite a hard days work, and thought to herself that she would perhaps apply another coat of lip-gloss before meeting Mr. Bernard. She had of course heard of Mr. Bernard, as everyone in the industry knew everyone, but she had not met him in person. While Cary knew that she was very good at her job she had not thought of herself so highly until she had received an e-mail from his secretary saying she had been head-hunted for an interview to work as his personal assistant. It was said that he was a relentless man with absurd demands, but he was so highly recognized in Europe that working for him meant that new doors would open up for.

Cary closed her compact, wondering what the interview would be like, when all of a sudden the train jerked and it slipped out of her hands. She bent down to pick it up, relieved that it wasn’t cracked, pouting to blow a piece of fluff of the edge; her eyes narrowed as she saw the reflection of a shadow pass from above. Looking up immediately she saw a small, stone coloured child crawl across the ceiling of the train, hanging like a bat. She stumbled back in fright, knocking over a briefcase on her way. The men all turned to look at her angrily, but when she pointed up towards the roof of the train, screaming, they all stumbled back falling on top of one another. The stone child which was now, at the other end of the carriage, turned back. Cary felt like he was looking straight at her, she clutched on to the arm of a nearby businessmen in terror; he who was as frightened as she was tried to shake it off as the stone boy drew closer. The train was still speeding ahead unknowingly, making the once soothing click-clack sound that Cary enjoyed listening too. The stone boy was almost upon her, when she realized that directly above her head hung a female child, she wore light blue jeans, but was naked from the waist up. Her head adorned two, primitive, black horns, similar to a goats; she snarled at the boy as he came closer. Cary stared back in trepidation, sinking as low to the floor as she could; she was unable to move her body to move out of the way, as many of the other passengers had. Instead she closed her eyes, her last thoughts were a silent prayer for God to spare her life.

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