So the door opens, as doors are wont to do, and through that door comes hurtling a device the likes of which you've never seen!
...unless you've seen bicycles before.
Riding the bicycle (it appears to have a wooden frame. It's painted garishly yellow) is a young man of about 16 years of age, in bright earth tones of cotton and linen that might be
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He's OK, though! He's leaped enthusiatically to his feet and is turning around and around in tight circles, staring at the place.
He hasn't noticed anyone noticing him.
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"Scusi," he says, bowing his head in the deference of an apprentice greeting an older man. "I wasn't looking where I was going and... are you the owner?"
He may be about to gush.
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Now, in addition to the man, a big spotted dog sticks his head over the back of the sofa.
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Yeah, his bicycle is nice and everything, but LOOK AT THIS PLACE.
"I don't think I've ever seen this place before - I've never seen any place like this before."
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"I've never been in a tavern with a view like that."
He's already walking towards the window, awestruck. "Magnifico."
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No! That can't be! Leo's eyes jerk wide in fear.
"But I've got so much to do!"
Because that's what bothers him about the end of the world. He'll never complete his flying machine.
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He glances to the door. "What do you mean?"
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"Where am I? How did I get here?"
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