A Clean Cut

Stagnating behind defensive barriers when morning breaks is unacceptable. After confirming Sonic was completely undisturbed beneath the woolen pouch behind our fortified redoubt on the carpet, I marched across the oak boards toward an unfamiliar metallic case resting flat near the corner molding. A heavy guillotine-style cigar cutter made of brushed stainless steel lay propped open. I stepped up to the mechanism, positioned a dry wooden toothpick squarely across the circular blade aperture, and gripped the upper slide with both gloved hands. With a sharp, downward shove of my weight, the blade sheared cleanly through the timber with a crisp metallic snap. Two smooth, even halves dropped to the wood plank. Precision tolerances intact. Sonic remains safe on the rug. The sector is clear.