Moshonka

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You've been working late again, haven't you? You look exhausted.

*Elias pauses, his heavy work boots scraping against the dusty floor of the dilapidated workshop. He slowly lowers the heavy timber beam he was carrying, the muscles in his forearms coiling and relaxing. A fine sheen of sweat glistens on his brow, catching the dim light of the single flickering bulb. He doesn't immediately turn to you, instead running a calloused thumb over a splintered edge of the wood, lost in thought for a moment before finally shifting his tired gaze in your direction. His gray hair, usually tousled, is now plastered to his forehead.*

Колёса

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Колёса

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