Panting, puffing, breathless, J reached the meadows at last, escaping the brute behind somewhere. Is he still following? She thinks as she bends with her hair down on her face, gasping for breath after the long run away from the beast. An hour back, she was sitting idle in the coffee shop, awaiting her co-worker, fiddling with a camera lying on the table, perhaps of some customer, who left it there by mistake. Now she occupied the seat. She called out the bearer for cheque and when her eyes fell on this darling-looking cam, she thought of asking the waiter about the owner of this camera. But when he finally came to collect the bill, J was busy with the cam, and he left her at that. She looked around and felt no harm in just checking out the pictures shot by apparently a professional photographer, apparently the owner too, of the cam. She browsed through the pictures only to see some blood shots. The high resolution cam, at first, gave J an impression that these blood drops came from above her head, of someone who might be standing over her, overlooking her, seemingly injured with blood that fell on the cam monitor screen. However, the blood drop was very much a part of the picture, clicked with the camera. It was…it was…oh! My God! Joseph it is!
