The Carved Rosette

Climbing a steady ramp formed by a leaning slate slab, I ascended to the carver's heavy timber workbench. Right in the center lay an unfinished limestone relief depicting an ornate acanthus rosette, but the shallow grooves were clogged with coarse stone grit. My V12 gave a sharp, resonant snarl of distaste at such fine stonework smothered in debris! Yet composure governed my power. Reversing slightly, I aligned my rear chassis toward the carving and let loose a controlled burst of exhaust revs, blowing the loose powdery lime clean from the carved stone petals. Pleased with the revealed craftsmanship, my snarling cylinders melted into a warm, gentle purr. I popped my rear coach doors wide, flooding the clean relief in a regal crimson glow.