Brynn readied herself for another long day at work. She tied her red hair in her signature French-braid and pulled her coat over her plain blue jumpsuit. She locked the door behind her as she left her apartment. It was late September, but the crisp cold of winter was already in the air. She pulled her ball cap down further and hunched into the wind, trudging through the rain on her mile walk to work.
Restoring old artifacts was hard work, but it paid the bills. Brynn couldn’t wait to get back to work on the thirteenth-century armor she’s been working on for weeks. She turned down Doran Street and climbed the stairs to the museum’s back door, swiping her keycard to enter. She stuffed her coat into her locker and made a beeline to her station, a heavy broadsword and helm laid neatly on her large desk. …show more content…
It would need to be straightened, but the blade was nearly finished.
“Vaughn,” her supervisor Mark called as he approached her station.
“Yes, sir?” She asked looking up from her work. “Did I not do it right?” She asked reexamining the blade.
“No, but I need you for something,” Mark said smiling. He was a nice enough guy, but he wanted nothing less than perfection and it was understandable. He motioned for her to follow him and she obliged, not wanting to put her job on the chopping block.
“Something came in today,” He said as he led her toward the loading bay. “ The Langdale Museum sent it to us for restoration, and I think you’re the best suited for this project. It needs minor work but no one’s hands are small enough to get in the crevices.” He opened the door and ushered her inside the small, well-lit room. A white canvas sheet was draped across a large table.
“Are you ready?” Mark asked, a sparkle in his
Restoring old artifacts was hard work, but it paid the bills. Brynn couldn’t wait to get back to work on the thirteenth-century armor she’s been working on for weeks. She turned down Doran Street and climbed the stairs to the museum’s back door, swiping her keycard to enter. She stuffed her coat into her locker and made a beeline to her station, a heavy broadsword and helm laid neatly on her large desk. …show more content…
It would need to be straightened, but the blade was nearly finished.
“Vaughn,” her supervisor Mark called as he approached her station.
“Yes, sir?” She asked looking up from her work. “Did I not do it right?” She asked reexamining the blade.
“No, but I need you for something,” Mark said smiling. He was a nice enough guy, but he wanted nothing less than perfection and it was understandable. He motioned for her to follow him and she obliged, not wanting to put her job on the chopping block.
“Something came in today,” He said as he led her toward the loading bay. “ The Langdale Museum sent it to us for restoration, and I think you’re the best suited for this project. It needs minor work but no one’s hands are small enough to get in the crevices.” He opened the door and ushered her inside the small, well-lit room. A white canvas sheet was draped across a large table.
“Are you ready?” Mark asked, a sparkle in his