A Crisp Layer of Green

I rested my palms against the cool edge of the workshop's inking slab, where a miniature rubber brayer lay beside a dab of deep forest-green relief ink. Gripping the turned wooden handle with both hands, I leaned forward and rolled the roller through the pigment. The tacky paste gave a soft, rhythmic hiss under the rubber. Back and forth across the frosted glass I rolled, smoothing the thick dollop into an immaculate, micro-thin rectangle of uniform sheen. When the cylinder spun freely with that crisp, velvety hum, I lifted it up—fully prepared for any woodblock waiting to be printed.