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Weekly Contest #340
1910The carpenter’s strong, calloused hands sanded the final edge. It was done. A deep, mahogany, shining from the oil and gloss mixture. The two glass-paned doors peered out into the shop, silently watching over the scene. Nestled in the back, behind the counter, stood the hutch, along with all the other pieces of furniture being built or repaired. The shop had a weathered look about it. Chairs, end tables, wardrobes scattered haphazardly. There was a comforting smell of oak and sawdust in the air. The carpenter wiped his hands clean and pa...
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