Colin Metcalf sat hunched at his tying table, in a silent, third floor room.
Until a few moments before, his careful ministrations at the fly tying vise had been accompanied, even punctuated, by the steady ticking of the grandfather clock. But now the chains hung slack; the weights lay on the bottom of the case; the pendulum only quivered.
Colin stared down at his future, an untidy bundle of fur and feathers clamped tightly in the vise’s jaws. His eyes narrowed.
The fly might be made of dead animals. But why did it seem to smell of dead animals?
He'd spent forty five minutes tying a single artificial fly, far too long a period of time even allowing for the interruption of olfactory hallucinations. He’d left everything too late, of course. **When he’d first sent off the proposal eight weeks of prep time had seemed like an extravagance.
The sun was insistent; it was time to stick a fork in winter. The last remnants of snow disappeared from the roof of the century old Tudor monstrosity across the road and ran wetly down the shingles. And far outside the city, Colin imagined, the ice on a prairie lake candled and cracked and, under a strong south wind, gave up the year’s first glimpse of trout-infested water.
Across the room, on the other side of the hall, someone from the tenant-infested lower levels of his house knocked insistently on the stairwell door.
This is a first page I'd guess ...but WTF is it? And the sentence after ** has no connection to what came before.
You desperately need a hook in a query letter here so you can tell us what you're trying to do. Think of a hook as map, or a list of freeway entrances to the Narrative Autobahn.