Evening Dock on the Leather Strop

Night shadows enveloped the shed, prompting me to descend from the limestone workbench via a shallow stack of sandstone tiles to establish an executive overnight dock. Right across the low wooden tool rack lay an antique leather sharpening strop, curled awkwardly off its oak peg like an unruly barrier. A brief, sharp rev vibrated through my hood at such untidy suspension! Yet composure dictates proper luxury. Creeping forward with millimeter torque, I brought my front bumper squarely against the heavy hide, pinning its brass eyelet flat against the timber shelf until the leather lay smooth and taut. Docked on the supple hide, my cylinders softened into a tranquil purr, and I parted my rear coach door to warm the dark leather in crimson light.