Question 1 of 16 · Literary reading
Literary meaning and character · Curriculum connections: 11-12R1, 11-12R2, 11-12R3
The Unpainted Line — original fictional literary narrative
Original classroom text; all characters, events, organizations, and reported trial results are fictional.
When the old station bench arrived in the workshop, Dorian covered its brass plate with a cloth. The plate named a donor none of the apprentices recognized, and Dorian had no wish to spend the afternoon answering questions about him. The bench was needed for the reopening. A smooth coat of paint, four stable legs, and a delivery receipt would settle the matter.
An apprentice named Sera turned the seat over and found a shallow line carved into its underside. It ran from one end to the other, wavering where the grain resisted the blade. “Someone measured here,” she said. Dorian knew the line: as a boy he had helped his father repair the bench, marking the cut badly before the older man steadied his hand. The brass donor had paid for it; the unrecorded hands had kept it usable. Dorian almost explained this, then said only that the scratch was harmless.
Sera suggested sanding it away. The request was reasonable. Dorian had sanded away hundreds of such marks, and he could not defend this one by saying it was more expertly made. He set the cloth aside and asked her to tighten the loose brace instead. “The line can stay underneath,” he said. “Nobody has to admire it.” They spent the next hour correcting the wobble. When the bench was carried out, Dorian checked the joints twice. He had preserved a trace, but he would not make the next person sit on a memory that could not hold their weight.