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vocab_drabblesTitle: The Lampmaker's Shop
Fandom: Original
Rating: Gen
Length: 500
Inspired by: This art by owlyjules on tumblr.
Summary: Young Billy Goat & his grandpa, the lampmaker.
“It seems I was wrong.”
At his grandfather’s confession, young Billy Goat looked up. Indeed, he looked up to his grandfather, that towering figure, in every manner it was possible for one to look up to another. Billy marveled at his grandfather’s shrewd dark eyes which had seen so much and so many. He stood in awe of his grandfather’s pale grey beard as it curled down his chin in frothy waves. He admired his grandfather’s lofty stature and his broad chest, so tall and wide as to block out the sun. But mostly, young Billy regarded his grandfather’s horns, thick and curling round twitching ears, dark grey with a tip as sharp as a pin.
His own horns were no more than a pair of bumps.
“Wrong, Grandpa?” echoed Billy. This was new. It seemed impossible that his grandfather could have been wrong about anything, but his grandfather did not lie, so therefore it must be true.
“I was labouring under a misapprehension,” replied the elder goat, untying and retying the strings of his heavy apron. Then he turned and held Billy in a warm, affectionate gaze.
“Misapprehension?” Billy stumbled over the word.
“A mistaken belief. A wrong thought.”
Billy blinked. And waited.
“I believed for many years that I would be the last owner of this little shop.”
Billy looked about.
Everywhere, there was light. Light glowing, light beaming, light shining, light gleaming. There was even light sleeping—in the lamps which had not been finished or the ones awaiting repairs.
The Lamp Maker’s Shop was illuminated.
And every day after school, young Billy would hurry, drawn by that light, to see what his grandfather had made that day, to listen to stories, to watch his grandfather at work, and, sometimes, to help.
“Yes, I believed for many years that I would be the last owner of this little shop,” Billy’s grandfather was fond of repeating himself, and Billy didn’t mind because he loved his grandfather’s rich baritone, “but I was labouring under a misapprehension. The future of this small luminous shop and its lamps are in good hands.”
Young Billy felt a spark of joy which fanned into a proud flame. “Me?”
“You. Yesterday you did well, yes, very well.”
The previous day, Billy had caught one of his schoolmate’s trying to steal a miniature lamp from the shop. It turned out the young goat was afraid of the dark and had been ashamed to admit his fear to anyone. Under his grandfather’s watchful eye, Billy had crafted a diminutive lamp especially for his schoolmate and accompanied him home with it to confess the truth to his family.
“I did well?” asked Billy, smiling, and fiddling with the edge of his apron.
“Very well. You acted with courage, compassion, and wisdom. And I could not have made a better lamp myself, so I think it is time, yes, it is time.”
“Time for what, Grandpa?”
Time, as it turned out, for young Billy learned about the magic.
Fandom: Original
Rating: Gen
Length: 500
Inspired by: This art by owlyjules on tumblr.
Summary: Young Billy Goat & his grandpa, the lampmaker.
“It seems I was wrong.”
At his grandfather’s confession, young Billy Goat looked up. Indeed, he looked up to his grandfather, that towering figure, in every manner it was possible for one to look up to another. Billy marveled at his grandfather’s shrewd dark eyes which had seen so much and so many. He stood in awe of his grandfather’s pale grey beard as it curled down his chin in frothy waves. He admired his grandfather’s lofty stature and his broad chest, so tall and wide as to block out the sun. But mostly, young Billy regarded his grandfather’s horns, thick and curling round twitching ears, dark grey with a tip as sharp as a pin.
His own horns were no more than a pair of bumps.
“Wrong, Grandpa?” echoed Billy. This was new. It seemed impossible that his grandfather could have been wrong about anything, but his grandfather did not lie, so therefore it must be true.
“I was labouring under a misapprehension,” replied the elder goat, untying and retying the strings of his heavy apron. Then he turned and held Billy in a warm, affectionate gaze.
“Misapprehension?” Billy stumbled over the word.
“A mistaken belief. A wrong thought.”
Billy blinked. And waited.
“I believed for many years that I would be the last owner of this little shop.”
Billy looked about.
Everywhere, there was light. Light glowing, light beaming, light shining, light gleaming. There was even light sleeping—in the lamps which had not been finished or the ones awaiting repairs.
The Lamp Maker’s Shop was illuminated.
And every day after school, young Billy would hurry, drawn by that light, to see what his grandfather had made that day, to listen to stories, to watch his grandfather at work, and, sometimes, to help.
“Yes, I believed for many years that I would be the last owner of this little shop,” Billy’s grandfather was fond of repeating himself, and Billy didn’t mind because he loved his grandfather’s rich baritone, “but I was labouring under a misapprehension. The future of this small luminous shop and its lamps are in good hands.”
Young Billy felt a spark of joy which fanned into a proud flame. “Me?”
“You. Yesterday you did well, yes, very well.”
The previous day, Billy had caught one of his schoolmate’s trying to steal a miniature lamp from the shop. It turned out the young goat was afraid of the dark and had been ashamed to admit his fear to anyone. Under his grandfather’s watchful eye, Billy had crafted a diminutive lamp especially for his schoolmate and accompanied him home with it to confess the truth to his family.
“I did well?” asked Billy, smiling, and fiddling with the edge of his apron.
“Very well. You acted with courage, compassion, and wisdom. And I could not have made a better lamp myself, so I think it is time, yes, it is time.”
“Time for what, Grandpa?”
Time, as it turned out, for young Billy learned about the magic.
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