塞姆利亚文库 #3短篇 （空之轨迹短小说）(9)
The face greeted customers with an aged brick that had long eroded to the point of holes; the cracked windows, taped for stability and adorned with cobwebs and insect droppings, were repugnant.
The place looked less like a shop and more like the newest secret playground for the local children, long abandoned after the passing of its owner. But no; to clarify, it was very much ‘in business.’
Despite first impressions, it was as much a shop as any other long the same street. A shop was still a shop even after it was no longer full to bursting with wealthy customers. Or any customers, really.
Before it fell into such a state, its owner was known far and wide even before the Orbal Revolution. He was a carpenter of unparalleled skill, and he was frequently commissioned to bring life to all manner of things.
Buildings, furniture, instruments, wedding rings… No matter the job, he carved each and every piece handsomely, and each one showed more heart than the last.
His passing brought great sorrow to all but one: his son, who was acutely aware that no one could surpass his father’s talent. More than he despised carpentry, he despised the crushing weight of his father’s name.
The place looked less like a shop and more like the newest secret playground for the local children, long abandoned after the passing of its owner. But no; to clarify, it was very much ‘in business.’
Despite first impressions, it was as much a shop as any other long the same street. A shop was still a shop even after it was no longer full to bursting with wealthy customers. Or any customers, really.
Before it fell into such a state, its owner was known far and wide even before the Orbal Revolution. He was a carpenter of unparalleled skill, and he was frequently commissioned to bring life to all manner of things.
Buildings, furniture, instruments, wedding rings… No matter the job, he carved each and every piece handsomely, and each one showed more heart than the last.
His passing brought great sorrow to all but one: his son, who was acutely aware that no one could surpass his father’s talent. More than he despised carpentry, he despised the crushing weight of his father’s name.
放荡少妇高潮小说短篇
