He smiled and the woman took his arm, kissing him on his smooth-shaven cheek. You looked up past his brown calfskin oxfords and saw a silver coin in his wool-gloved hand. “You are such a sweet boy,” she said, and you wished to God that you had a mother. Your eyes teared up and you looked down at your ratty trousers where you knelt in the snow. You dared look up at her when you finished and she smiled at you. You looked into the snowflakes upon it with a kind of gentle envy.
#Liberal crime squad blue skills full
Her long green coat was full of beauty-magic just because she wore it. You worked her tall, slim leather boots with shaking hands as the snow fell around you. (3) One day the most beautiful woman in the world came for a shoe shine. Today he is a respected minor craftsman and removes his cap when he sees you. You opened the machine by unscrewing it with your thumbnail and worked while your master screamed until you fixed it with your belt. Then the machine broke and he cried and cried. You saw light in his eyes for the first time in a year.
You locked yourself in a room with your master as he raged and hurled himself at you, but you stayed with him until he sobered enough to work the machine with his palms and feet. You sold his liquor, sold your coats, sold his tools, sold your furniture and bought a single used machine. Eventually he lost several fingers in a drunken accident. He worked his fingers to the bone and his larder grew lighter and lighter with each passing month.
Every day he would tell you that what he was teaching you would amount to nothing, that you were better off drinking like him and living life for the spirits. (2) A new technological innovation made your master’s handicraft obsolete, and he turned to drink.