Every confession made, promise laid down at your bedside
The bell over the workshop door chimed. It was light and familiar, the kind of sound Noah barely registered anymore. He didn’t lift his head from the small wooden sleigh he was carving, thumb steady on the curve of the blade as he eased another ribbon from the block.
Visitors came and went, mostly neighbors picking up gifts or repairs, so he didn't even turn his head at first. Without looking up, he nodded toward the wall of finished toys beside the window. "Your order’s over there, Gerty." he called, voice even, hands still moving in their careful rhythm.
Noah set the sleigh down but didn’t turn right away. He brushed sawdust from his palm, hand brushing against his apron. When he finally looked over his shoulder, the chisel still balanced loosely in one hand, the sight meeting him did not fit the name he’d spoken. Noah blinked. "You’re not Gerty." A beat passed, heat climbing faintly into his ears. With a quiet clearing of his throat, Noah set down the chisel.
Visitors came and went, mostly neighbors picking up gifts or repairs, so he didn't even turn his head at first. Without looking up, he nodded toward the wall of finished toys beside the window. "Your order’s over there, Gerty." he called, voice even, hands still moving in their careful rhythm.
Noah set the sleigh down but didn’t turn right away. He brushed sawdust from his palm, hand brushing against his apron. When he finally looked over his shoulder, the chisel still balanced loosely in one hand, the sight meeting him did not fit the name he’d spoken. Noah blinked. "You’re not Gerty." A beat passed, heat climbing faintly into his ears. With a quiet clearing of his throat, Noah set down the chisel.
Noah
Guiding a broken heart through the edge of dark
