Bront let the next shell roll off his shelf. 🪨
THE BOOK OF TAD
PAGE 79
THE PRICE OF THE PLATE 🪵
A dead crossbar of wood lay wedged across the broad opening below him. The obstructed flow climbed over his resting place, carrying grit.
“I want that on the lower landing. Clear of the channel. It stays there. My shelf stays here.”
He tapped the plate.
“Then you can take your interesting scratches away.”
Zale watched the dark opening beneath the shelf. TurboTAD noticed. Bront noticed him noticing.
The crossbar’s heavy end was jammed against a raised stone lip. The other pointed into open water.
“Why can’t you lift it?” TurboTAD asked.
“Lifting that end tightens the other. I’ve tried being large. Perhaps you can try being small.”