A Clean Cut

I climbed out of the leather casket and navigated past a stack of worn ledger books toward the jeweler's back workbench. Tucked beneath an adjustable brass task lamp was a spool of fine braided copper wire and a pair of spring-loaded wire cutters. Still holding my red relic securely in my right grip, I worked the insulated handles with my left palm, testing the tension. I threaded the loose end of the wire between the jaws and pressed down until the blades met with a crisp, dry snip. The trimmed fragment dropped into a carved wooden sorting tray below. Neat, precise work always leaves a reassuring order behind.