In the blistering cold night, a lonely carriage rattled onto the cobblestone streets of London, It was lit up unevenly by lampposts the light blinking as shadows advanced forward.
The carriage was black, camouflaged by the dark midnight with no moonlight in the sky. The one driving the carriage was dressed in all black as well, tight tailcoat, a top hat with no trimmed ribbon to resemble elegance and black gloves to warm his fingers in the cold night. His face was covered by a scarf with only his eyes showing. He was holding the reins that held the black stallions, their hooves rattled in harmony, making the only sound on the streets beside the howling wind.
Inside, there waited his master, tired and impatient. He tapped his white gloved fingers on his knees as he gazed at nothing. His cane: a wooden stick attached to a beautifully carved owl ready to fly, began to draw circles on the floor in boredom. He moved about as the carriage went over unpleasant potholes and bumps, making his ride rather uncomfortable. He hated carriages.
He closed his window curtain, shutting out the blinding light of the lamp posts. Beside him was a bottle of fine wine given by a friend, the sweet, sparkling liquid swished about in the glass bottle, he licked his lips, wanting to get the bitter taste in his mouth out. He checked his pocket watch; the place that he was going to should be getting closer.
Suddenly without warning, he jerked forward, clutching his heart. It throbbed painfully in his chest as if a bullet passed through it. Every time his heart beat the pain dispersed more around his chest, making him keel over. He let out a gasp, panting for air. The wine bottle rolled around in the seat until finally it crashed onto the floor, spilling the red liquid on his fine silk coat.
The carriage stopped abruptly, the man cursed as he slowly straightened himself up. His pain eased and slowly drifted away.
"Go on" He ordered, the carriage moved hesitantly for a bit before carrying on. He sighed as he leaned back onto his seat, still clutching his heart.
Then he smiled wickedly. At least I know my invention is working properly he thought as the carriage rode off into the night.