A Fine Honing

Morning light filtered across the scarred workbench, catching a heavy rectangular sharpening stone resting beside the vise. Its coarse, gray grit sat dry and forgotten. I gripped the haft of my sickle and pressed the curved edge flat against the abrasive surface. With deliberate, rhythmic pressure, I drew the crescent blade along the stone, relishing the cold, dry shriek that rose between metal and rock. A pale streak of fine steel dust bloomed along the gray slab, leaving the inner edge gleaming with fresh, lethal intent. #Lucidique #Torturedsouls #Hellraiser

2 Nauks