“,” he muttered, raising a cup of tea to the empty room. “You sold me a roof. But the boy gave me a home.”
Andrei smiled. “My first salary. From the factory. The old roof comes down tomorrow.” scandura stejar dedeman
“It’s too much,” he whispered, looking at the price. “,” he muttered, raising a cup of tea to the empty room
It was — oak shingles. Not the cheap, treated pine, but genuine, solid Romanian oak. Each shingle was dark honey in color, with tight, wavy grains that told of a century of slow growth. The label read: Solid. Durability: 60+ years. ” he muttered