You Will Never Know What Kind Of People You Crossed

Beside the crumbled tailor shop, a family of three disembarked from an old wagon.

A husband, a wife and a son.

The three of them were dusty. The two adults were grateful to be alive and able to return to their home. The child was biting his finger, looking at the crumbled shop blankly; he didn't seem to understand his parents' expression.

As goods after goods were moved down from the wagon, the locked door was opened up again.

They had left for only a few days, so there was not much cleaning to be done, except for maybe the sweeping away of some dust. The place quickly became clean after the wife's cleaning.

The goods were arranged neatly by the husband, but they noticed that one of the tapestries was missing the piece of wood that held it down.

Nails?

What a joke!