(Originally written as Dream Catcher Dreams.) Re-written, edited and expanded on to create this action packed, fiction thriller, fantasy novel, prepared for publication ... The Trinket.
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Chapter One: Janes Dream ~
Jane crouched on a perch just above the pedestrians that walked along the city sidewalks. Her feet firmly planted on top of the newspaper stand. She looked to her left, then to her right. Watching the endless ribbon of people that flowed both ways, like two currents.
A White and Black feather flew by her face a mere inches from her nose. Like an arrow shot from a bow, it went straight across the street and into a dark alley. Jane crawled from her observation post and wedged her way through the crowd in pursuit.
"Excuse me …excuse me!" She said while pressing through the crowd.
Making her way to the alley's entrance, Jane placed her right hand on the wooden stock of her pistol. Keeping her hand there as a rest, while her finger toyed with the holster snap, she walked into the dark alleyway.
As if day turned to night the alley was dark. Every step took her deeper into the shadow of the city. Looking up, she saw a sliver of blue sky between the towering buildings. She walked forward, cautiously.
An elderly woman wrapped in a blanket sat in the opening of a very large cardboard box. Jane took notice but continued to walk the center of the lane. A ‘click' sounded putting Jane's hand in motion. A flick of her thumb at the snap and she pulled the pistol from it's holster, aiming.
The old woman had lit a match and was puffing on a pipe, then inhaled the smoke deeply. She waved the match in the air to extinguish it. Letting out a stream of smoke that rolled to the ground and turned into itself. Churning and growing, the gray smoke stretched outward and took the form of an Owl with wide spread wings. It began flapping it's smoke filled feathers and ascended above Jane's head, then took flight down the alley.
Slow steady smoke trailed, wing beats, drifted for a short distance, then turned. Without missing a beating stride, the owl went through a chain link fence. Like a ghost through a wall. Small slivers of smoke hung and lingered on the metal stranded links of the fence.
