And here we begin the stories of the Inventor’s War. The story will be Monday through Friday in short installments like the one below.
Samo grunted as he kicked off his blankets. Looking toward the window where the sounds of the city bells had breached the walls of his chamber, he shook his fist. “Darn you bells! I was having a good dream.” Laying on his back on the bed, he rolled to his side so that he fell off onto the floor. After landing on the hardwood floor, he set his arms apart and did his twenty daily push ups. After that, he reached for his over tunic and pulled it on. By the time that he was dressed, the bells had stopped. “Aw,” he said. “I was starting to enjoy them.”
The blond young man threw his blanket back onto his bed, spreading them out, but almost deliberately not smoothing them out. One leaving his room, he was confronted with the smell of dust and grease. The room was silent, and filled with things that seemed as if they should have been talking. Paintings sat on the floor and on tables. A glazed clay bust of a young woman sat on a shelf next to him. As white as snow, the bust had a slight smile, as if the woman was alive. The fact that no paint had been applied, leaving the entire statue pale white made her seem quite disconcerting.
Samo reached for the wool cap sitting next to the statue and revealed another glazed clay bust of a man. Without even a glance at the statues, he set the cap on his head and walked down the wooden stairs to where the stench of grease was emanating and the smell of dust began to lessen. On the lower level, machine parts lay strewn across the room, smaller parts on tables, and the larger on the floor. He walked to the center of the room where there sat a metal wagon with the brass pipes and tubes snaking around. Setting his hand on the side of his, he smiled and said, “Hello, my child.”