Eye of a needle - Town - my dream!

It is a new day of our journey through the city of my dreams. No, it did not start, it was already coming to an end, it was already getting dark when my wife and I discovered that our son, when riding a skateboard, fell and wiped a hole on his jeans. We had big plans the next day and this hole did not fit into the general plan of activities. It was an urgent need to fix it and I went to look for a tailor.

I went outside and asked the passersby where I could find a tailor at that time. I was told that they had one tailor in the city and it should be looked for in the Needle of Ear. I asked what is the Needle Eye? As it turned out, they call it the old quarter near the lighthouse. His workshop and house are at the very end of the street, I won’t be mistaken.

I thanked the sympathetic people and went to the side of the lighthouse. When I got closer, I understood why this quarter was so named. Between the houses there was so little space that I sometimes had to squeeze sideways.

Nobody went to meet me and that was good. I do not know how we would have passed each other. As pilots say planes, when they fly in the fog, go through the instruments, so I moved forward.

There was no light around, the street was very dark. Apparently very economical people live here, I thought.

The street made several sharp turns and suddenly I was leaning on the door. The door was solid oak, she was many years old. Over the door hung a copper bell, I rang it.

In the beginning there was silence, then there was a squeaky dog ​​barking, I heard footsteps.
The door creaked open and out of it appeared the bald head of an old man. This bald spot, was the only source of light on this street, the light from the depth of the corilor behind the back of the house owner reflected from it.

I apologized for such a late visit, talked about the reason that brought me here. The owner invited me to the house.

I followed him along the narrow corridor, it was dark, we walked towards the light.
On both sides, huge rolls of various fabrics stood against the walls, in the dark it was difficult to determine their color. This corridor, like the street, was a needle-eye, through which you need to carry a camel, as one saying goes.

The tailor was the master of the house. He apologized and asked to wait until he finished urgent work, which he was instructed to do in the shortest possible time, otherwise, he will have an apocalypse.

I had a few minutes to get acquainted with the place where I was.

Someone grunted under the table. I sneaked a peek there and saw an English bulldog who paid no attention to me at all. He was busy with others.

Part of the room was illuminated by light, which penetrated the open door to the kitchen. From time to time a boy with a toy gun appeared from the corner and let out a projectile with a sucker in a tailor The tailor paid no attention to him.

I saw a woman in the kitchen, I think I already met her when I arrived in the city and came to the fair. Smells of roasted meat and vegetables spread from the kitchen. The sound of shrimp oil in the pan, drowned out all the sounds in the house. Sometimes she screamed
Oswald! Already done?
There was no answer, I did not know to whom she was screaming.

Then I saw interesting artifacts. It was a knight's helmet with horns, a sword and a shield. The tailor saw my eyes, smiled and asked me.
Are you interested in historical artifacts?
without waiting for my answer, he continued.
I apologize, I did not introduce myself. My name is Oswald Zeya, I am German, or rather I am German, my kind is very ancient. I am a son, grandson and great-grandson of a tailor. My house, one of the first houses on this coast. It was rebuilt several times, but the foundation is the same as the crusades of the knights in Jerusalem.

My ancestor was a member of such a crusade. When his mission ended, he decided to return home. Their ship was damaged and they spent a long time at sea without drinking water.

They were all exhausted and had already lost hope, but once, in the morning, they heard a strange sound. This ship's keel rubbed against the pebbly bottom of this lagoon.

On this ship were knights from different countries. But, they all liked the place so much, where they were washed ashore, that they decided to stay here and found a city.

But everyone had families who were waiting for them. They went home, but in three and a half years, all of them and their families returned here and great construction began. So our city appeared.

At that moment, a scream came from the kitchen again.

• Oswald! Already done?
  Oswald apologized and went back to work.

I looked, it turned out that the urgent work was an old kitchen towel. But, it was necessary to see with what love Oswald sewed wipes on it.

The desktop was lit only by one bulb. I began to find out the reason for such savings, it may not be tactful, but for me it was strange.

Another moment I am a little amused. Christmas came to this house many years ago and refused to leave. Christmas garlands hung between two lamps on the ceiling. In our country, they sometimes laugh when someone puts a sprinkled Christmas tree on the garbage in April. This man is joking, they say that he is a weakling, and that he has given up!

Oswald was a tough nut to crack!

Finally, the towel was wired and the tailor proceeded to my order. It was an ideal job that I had never seen before. He was a master of his craft.
When the jeans were sewn, the time was already late. I had no choice but to say goodbye. I am sure that we will meet and talk again. I have questions for him.

If you first came to this city, you can get to know him if you follow these links.

Town - my dream!
Fish day on the pier - Town - my dream!
Photo for memory - Town - my dream!
Reconnaissance - Town - my dream!

In addition to describing the city, I draw illustrations to the chapters of the Bible. I began to illustrate with Genesis.

You can see these illustrations on my blog @roninrelax .

I draw a simple ballpoint pen with blue paste, on a small sheet of A5 paper. This is half A4 format. I do not make sketches for my works. It all starts and ends with a blue dash of a ballpoint pen.

To be continued.

Author @roninrelax

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