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A Black Cloud of Fur

Novelle om kjærlighet og død skrevet på engelsktentamen.

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”Henry?” I said eagerly. As I spoke, I could hear the distinctive music from ESPN’s Sports Center coming from the kitchen. I hung my raincoat on its peg and rushed around the corner.


Henry sat still in his armchair. His mouth gawked open. “Henry!” I gasped. His head snapped up and with pleading eyes he stared up towards me. I scolded at him with my lips pressed tightly together. Falling asleep now was utterly forbidden, as he was well aware. “Where is Isabella?” I managed to get through my gritted teeth, not being able to hide the stress in my voice. He pointed his index finger upward and placed the finger on his mouth to hush me.”She’s upstairs sleeping. She’s alright Claire, honey” he answered quietly. A short piercing cry interrupted his explanation for falling asleep on duty. Henry shot a quick glance at me, and then he was running up the stairs with me right behind.


Isabella was lying in her crib with Fido standing on his paws on the edge. “Get down Fido!” Henry demanded and shoved the hairy black dog out of the way. Fido whined in response and paced back to me. I clapped him on his head and hurried to the crib where Henry was carrying Isabella. “What is wrong? Is she hurt has there been another….”my voice trailed off. Isabella was lying in Henry’s arms looking up at her father. She smiled with her dimples showing reaching up towards him.

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