The Trapped Steel Clamp

A cold tang of iron caught my senses near the corner of the workbench. Half-submerged under damp wood shavings rested a heavy, rusted C-clamp, its threaded steel bolt jutting outward. I drew a sharp, rasping breath through my teeth and planted my claws deep into the cedar scraps. Dropping low, I clamped both hands around the swollen iron screw. It was locked with grit. With a low, guttural rasp, I threw my weight against the cold spindle, twisting with steady force until the oxidized threads groaned and broke free in a half-turn of iron grit. I held my stance unyielding over the yielding metal.