A Bike Shop Newbie's First Day, Parts Laid Out in a Row

Wide 16:9 frame, seen from the side at eye level and framed from the waist up, under even overhead light. In a small bicycle repair workshop, a stocky mechanic in his late forties, with tanned skin, a round face, a short grey beard and one small oil smudge on his cheekbone, lines up a few small bike parts on a clean cloth laid on the wooden bench: a bell, a brake cable, a pair of brake pads and a chain link, in a neat row. Across the bench stands a tall, lean Black man in his early twenties with a coily twist-out, faded sides, a faint moustache and two silver hoop earrings in his left ear; his hands rest flat on the edge of the bench and he is looking at the row. The veteran mechanic wears dark blue overalls, the newcomer a mustard apron over a plain grey t-shirt. Each hand shows four fingers and a thumb, exactly five digits accounted for. The workshop holds the wooden bench, a pegboard tool wall with painted tool outlines, a metal parts shelf and a wooden counter. No readable words, numbers, logos or brand marks anywhere, on any tool board, tag, pad, card, shelf or bicycle; pads, tags, cards and labels are blank or simple pictograms. Photograph it in the observational documentary genre, on 35mm film with a 35mm lens at f/5.6 for generous depth of field and open, visible grain. A single soft overcast-daylight key comes from high in front and spreads evenly over everything, with loose, open shading gathering lightly under ledges and folds. Grade it plain and desaturated, with honest midtone contrast and unpolished texture.