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A novel by Eric Melma |
Page 2 |
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crawling and later walking, began to discover the world, he showed
himself to be a very curious little boy. He wanted to investigate
everything in sight and examine every object. He enthusiastically
attacked visitors and sometimes liked to play with their hair. He
quickly expanded his boundaries to outdoors, where he ignored the
other children his age. He thought they were playing aimlessly round
and round. Once, he extinguished the fire in the fireplace with
water and sat there looking at the clouds of steam with great
fascination. During his first visit to the market, his gift came to
light. The family was walking past the booths displaying wares.
Because of his limited height, Michel was amusing himself with what
was going on underneath the wooden tables: fish remains, rotting
fruit, blood waste, broken jute sacs, an occasional rat chewing on
things, and countless shuffling feet. His mother was keeping a close
eye on him. The De Nostredame family stopped at a booth with
glassware and wanted to buy something pretty for the holidays. In
the previous century, one only saw drinking glasses among the
socially elite, but nowadays glass was being produced on a larger
scale, which made it more affordable. The eager market merchant
quickly grabbed the most delicate bowl between his teeth, trying to
impress the young mother. “You know, Madam, pottery and wood and tin dishes are functional, but very ugly. Glass dishes are all the rage now.” Reyničre cheerfully listened to him, while keeping her child close by. “There are several types of glass drinking cups available,” he continued. “Look at this: gorgeous cups with hollow, funnel-shaped stems, and low chalice-type glasses with tall, graceful stems. Behind them are cylinder-shaped cups, decorated with polka dots.” “And what type is this?” she asked. “Those are Berkemeiers, Madam, drinking glasses with a funnel shaped cup and a finely ridged foot ring.” The merchant took everything out of the cabinet because the family looked like they had money to spend. Jacques thought the ridged one were quite nice. “The ridged ones are very popular,” the merchant repeated immediately, “besides the low drinking bowls, cabbage stalks and Berkemeiers, of course.” “What are those ridges for?” inquired Reyničre. “The ridges or polka dots ensure a better grip on the glass.” “And which ones do you sell most of?” asked her husband.
“The glass drinking
dishes sell especially well. Pouring devices, such as bottles, are
very expensive.” The specialist apparently was the only person in
the area who possessed a grand collection of glassware and he
proudly brought out his most beautiful bottle. The family was
getting completely entranced by his products and Jacques asked the
man if he could look at the bottle more closely. Little Michel had
been behaving himself in a most exemplary fashion all this time and
was quietly looking at the half-filled boxes under the table. Above,
Jacques grabbed the glass showpiece clumsily and it immediately
slipped out of his grasp. The expected crash, however, surprisingly
didn’t come and everybody’s startled attention focused below. There,
their son had just effortlessly caught the very expensive bottle. He
put the heavenly gift to his lips, whereupon the owner quickly
grabbed it out of his little hands. After many apologies, the
disillusioned family went home without buying anything. When they
got there, the father, who got away with just a scare, was full of
praise for his son. |
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