Maurice looks up with a sigh. The growing tremors were preventing him from completing the detail on a pair of satin slippers. That's Bunyan coming down the mountain, sure as hell, and this time of year, after the rains, he's going to want his Brobdingnagian pair of boots repaired. The cobbler has stopped trying to explain that he's not a tent maker or carpenter.
Well, at least the work keeps the migrants busy. Is it too much to ask to just be left alone with a pair of fine satin slippers?
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