Respect the Shine

I leaped onto the scarred timber workbench of an evening leather stall under the warm hum of a streetlamp. Right between two heavy spools of waxed thread sat an open velvet jewelry tray. A chunky silver signet ring was wedged crooked against the wooden rim, losing its dignity. Without missing a beat, I wedged the blunt flat of my plush blade underneath and tipped the heavy ring straight upright into the padded groove. The engraved eagle on top caught the amber glare instantly. With my cap tilted low and my plush taco secure under my arm, I nodded. That's real boss jewelry, polished and standing tall.