Short stories of Settlesbrooke

Wagon

One morning, there was a wagon stall in the middle of town, as if it had just appeared.

A sign said- 'Fine things and sundries from Midcity' in loopy letters.

A man sat at the counter of the wagon polishing a golden orb, and a thin young lady sat perched on the edge of the counter, stringing beads onto a piece of thread.

A small girl was kneeling by the wagon, quietly sewing.

Curious was on her morning malk (A Snoot's version of milk) run, bringing a bucket to the Tailor's shop, and a bucket to the Blacksmith's house, one in each hand.

She stopped and placed a bucket on the gravel and waved politely.

"Morning!" She smiled, wiping dirt from a graze on her cheek.

The thin lady raised an eyebrow, not making eye contact. The man stood up.
"Good morning, young miss. May I interest you in some in some ointment for that nasty cut of yours? Only five tablets a bottle..."

"Naw, I'll heal easily."