Alban Mousavi, 34

I open the shop before the street wakes. Off-white linen, sleeves rolled, a bowl of water beside the wool. The first hour belongs to sorting: warp from weft, madder red from walnut brown. My father did this with his eyes closed. I still need the window.译街还没醒，我就开了铺子。米白亚麻衫，袖子卷起来，羊毛旁边放一碗水。头一个钟头留给分线：经线和纬线分开，茜草红和核桃褐分开。父亲闭着眼也分得清，我还得靠窗边的光。

Anton SkakunMbark Ould AhmedMariana CostaMarkus WeberIsabella Moretti

Rain came through the roof again last night. I spent the morning moving rugs and hanging the black coat up to dry, soaked through at the shoulders. Nothing ruined. In this city you learn to carry the good things out of the water first.译昨夜屋顶又漏雨。一早上我都在挪毯子，把那件黑色外套挂起来晾，肩头湿透了。没有东西坏掉。在这座城里，人得先学会把好的东西从水里抢出来。

Farid KarimiPaloi SrisukPriya NairLukas Gruber

The tea house on the corner keeps the same three tables and the same silence. I go at four, when the light turns gold and nobody asks questions. Two cups, no sugar. Sometimes a man sits down and we talk about nothing for an hour. That is enough.译街角那家茶馆还是三张桌子，还是那么安静。我四点去，光变成金色的时候，没人问东问西。两杯茶，不加糖。偶尔有人坐下来，我们聊一个钟头的闲话。这样就很够了。

Maria Fernanda QuispeMatilda HargraveLuc Belanger

A boy brought a small kilim in a plastic bag, folded like something broken — his grandmother's. Three rows of knots gone, eaten by moths. I told him a week. He asked if I could make it look new. I said no. I can make it look like itself again.译一个男孩用塑料袋提来一张小基里姆毯，叠得像件坏掉的东西，是他祖母的。三排结被虫蛀没了。我说要一周。他问能不能补得像新的一样。我说不能。我只能让它重新像它自己。

Sophie van de VeldeMatilda HargraveAlben KelmendiNaledi MorakeSato Sakura

The workshop is cold enough for the grey cotton vest. Madder root in the pot, the room smelling of earth and iron. My nails stay pale grey for days. New wool has to be duller than the old, or the repair shouts. So I dye small, wait, and dye again.译作坊里冷得要穿那件浅灰棉背心。茜草根在锅里，满屋子是泥土和铁的味道。指甲缝里的淡灰要留好几天。新羊毛必须比旧的暗一点，不然补过的地方会喊出声。所以我少染一点，等一等，再染一遍。

Yassine BelkacemKim MinjunMaksim SkakunJoana Manuel

At night I count what I did. Not money — knots. Rows closed, colours matched, a corner that finally lies flat. I wear the old grey hood until the lamp gets hot, then walk home under the same kind of light. The carpet stays on the table, half mended, waiting.译夜里我数自己做完的事。不是钱，是结。收了几行，对上几处颜色，有一个角终于服帖了。我穿着那件洗旧的黑灰连帽衫做到灯发烫，然后在同样的光里走回家。毯子留在桌上，补了一半，等着。

Nusrat JahanDiego FerrerPaloi SrisukJordi CasalsSato Sakura

A man came for his mother's carpet, twelve years folded in a cupboard. He stood a long time without speaking, then touched the repaired border with one finger. He said it smelled like her room. I took the money, made tea, and said nothing clever. Some work ends in silence.译有人来取他母亲的毯子，在柜子里叠了十二年。他站着很久没说话，然后用一根手指碰了碰补好的边。他说，闻起来像她的房间。我收了钱，泡了茶，一句漂亮话也没说。有些活儿是安静地收尾的。

江南雨林雪梨Naledi Morake