this morning #522.

this morning, he’d decided that he had no choice. he would have to contest the contest results. while he wasn’t in desperate need of a win, it wouldn’t hurt to have one. in this town of just over a few thousand, there was only one other man who held a candle to his woodworking skills. this year, that other man had not brought his usual A-game but his mid-century maple nightstand still took the top prize at the annual harvest festival. it was a disgrace, a clear sign that at least one of the judges had been paid off. for months, he’d been crafting the perfect cherry roll top desk, a work of art in much of the community’s eyes. no matter what, he would not let a bribe take that away from him.