Me. You. Coffee.

Ubinox was patient.
Ubinox was smart.
Ubinox was lithe, agile and keen.

High above the Grand Hall she waited; fingers and toes gripping the light fittings as she sank silently into nothingness.

Shadows stretched across the empty room as the wise old grandfather clock, standing as it always had by the ornate double doors, beat out a steady rhythm for them to dance.

Ubinox watched.
Ubinox waited.
Ubinox didn’t flinch, not even when the chimes signalled 8pm and the doors burst open with a surge of gay abandon and a chorus of cheers.

At 8.05 the cheers were silenced.

I have my doubts whether you’ll see what I see, but perhaps after reading and looking again you’ll find Ubinox lying in wait. This piece was written for Friday Fictioneers. 100 words per story, 100 stories per week.