TimeStamp: Spring Day 42, 511
Syrah walked into her fathers shop. She didn't mind the shift as a shopkeeper. She enjoyed explaining all the wines to the customers if they would listen. The small bell rang as she passed through the frame of the door. Behind the counter John straightened. Taking his head off his hands and erecting his spine. He quickly relaxed when he recognized Syrah instead of a customer or a big boss.
Syrah smiled and half waved at John, the current shopkeeper her father had favored. She knew he wouldn't last long, her father never kept one person for a while, except her of course. Turning and picking up his pack, John smiled a relieved smile at Syrah. "It's been a slow day," he stated as he rounded the counter, "you might want to pull up a chair. I've only had a few people walk in today." John learned a long time ago not to crush on Syrah, that only met his job would be shortened. Instead he was just friendly and Syrah liked it that way. She was a bit annoyed that her father wouldn't let men come near her, but she didn't want any of them anyway, so she didn't dwell on it.
"I think I will do that then. Have a good day, John." She exclaimed, dismissing him. The bell rang again as he left. Quickly, Syrah pulled a chair from the storage room to behind the counter. Usually these chairs would be used for tasting or parties, Syrah didn't think there would be any of those today. She sat and her eyes wandered the shop as her mind wandered the recesses of her mind. She had been in this shop so many times she was was fairly confident she could walk through it blindfolded and not break anything.
As one would enter the dark brown door they would hear the bell and in front of them there would be dark wood floor that lead up to a nice oak counter where the shopkeeper would rest behind. The air would smell thickly of grapes and alcohol. Behind the counter was a locked door. To the left of door was a wall lined with criss-crossed shelf's that held an assortment of cheap, common wines. To the right of the door was a large archway that lead into a larger room lined completely with those same shelves, except for one wall. These shelves held the more uncommon and unusual wines Syrah's father offered. The wall that was bare of wine cornered a few nice chairs and a small table used for quick tasting. On the far side, that wall also contained a locked door that lead into a room behind the front counter. This small room housed large glass cases that held rare wines. These cases were constantly locked up and could only be opened by trusted shopkeepers.
Syrah sat behind the counter and thought about her idea about moving to Riverfall, the land of the big blue boys, as her mother called it. She had talked to her father about it, he said when she turned 21 could she go. He fully supported the studying of wine, but wanted to get in a few more seasons of his own teaching before he let her loose into the world.
Syrah smiled and half waved at John, the current shopkeeper her father had favored. She knew he wouldn't last long, her father never kept one person for a while, except her of course. Turning and picking up his pack, John smiled a relieved smile at Syrah. "It's been a slow day," he stated as he rounded the counter, "you might want to pull up a chair. I've only had a few people walk in today." John learned a long time ago not to crush on Syrah, that only met his job would be shortened. Instead he was just friendly and Syrah liked it that way. She was a bit annoyed that her father wouldn't let men come near her, but she didn't want any of them anyway, so she didn't dwell on it.
"I think I will do that then. Have a good day, John." She exclaimed, dismissing him. The bell rang again as he left. Quickly, Syrah pulled a chair from the storage room to behind the counter. Usually these chairs would be used for tasting or parties, Syrah didn't think there would be any of those today. She sat and her eyes wandered the shop as her mind wandered the recesses of her mind. She had been in this shop so many times she was was fairly confident she could walk through it blindfolded and not break anything.
As one would enter the dark brown door they would hear the bell and in front of them there would be dark wood floor that lead up to a nice oak counter where the shopkeeper would rest behind. The air would smell thickly of grapes and alcohol. Behind the counter was a locked door. To the left of door was a wall lined with criss-crossed shelf's that held an assortment of cheap, common wines. To the right of the door was a large archway that lead into a larger room lined completely with those same shelves, except for one wall. These shelves held the more uncommon and unusual wines Syrah's father offered. The wall that was bare of wine cornered a few nice chairs and a small table used for quick tasting. On the far side, that wall also contained a locked door that lead into a room behind the front counter. This small room housed large glass cases that held rare wines. These cases were constantly locked up and could only be opened by trusted shopkeepers.
Syrah sat behind the counter and thought about her idea about moving to Riverfall, the land of the big blue boys, as her mother called it. She had talked to her father about it, he said when she turned 21 could she go. He fully supported the studying of wine, but wanted to get in a few more seasons of his own teaching before he let her loose into the world.
