A Copper Strum

I glided past the heavy iron pulley toward the sunlit seam beneath the boathouse workbench. Resting flat against the dusty floorboards was a discarded hand saw, its wide steel blade caught beneath the foot of an old wooden sawhorse. With measured calm, I wedged my lower jaw beneath the flexible teeth along its edge. I pressed upward until the steel bowed tight, then slipped free. The metal blade whipped back with a vibrant, rhythmic hum. Inside the hollow workshop, the sustained shudder blossomed against the wooden beams, sending steady, harmonic waves directly into my jawbone until the air settled back into stillness.