New Challenge: Potluck Bingo
Sit down to a delicious selection of prompts served on bingo boards, created by the SWG community.
Disclaimer: Tolkien built the sandbox, I only play with the bucket and shovel that he left for me. No money, profit or non, is made from the publication of this story.
Discordant Notes
“Mother, can I use your drills?” Makalaurë called.
The studio door slammed behind him. He carried a harp under his arm, its loosened strings waving erratically with each step.
Clouds of stone dust billowed towards the partially finished roof as Nerdanel brushed off her apron. “Why?”
“Two more stringing holes and I would have been done. But Atar threw me out of his workshop - said I break things.”
The edge of his sleeve caught a jar holding her paintbrushes. Falling, it shattered on the stone flooring. Nerdanel fought to restrain her sigh. For once, she agreed with Fëanáro.
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