Making a gift

Robin spun the hammer in his hand before bring it down softly on the small piece of obsidian. A small piece sheared off in his hand, followed by a small spark as a vein of iron in the glass met the hammer. The scent of ozone filled his nostrils as he struck again, each time bringing a small spark and crushing sound as the glass broke apart in his hand.

Lauren had suggested that if Viola was going to be in their life, he should do something fun for her, perhaps make her something. Robin had eagerly agreed, but suggested that Lauren's own hobby of beading might be more appropriate. They'd come to a compromise on a small item, which they'd sketched out over a quick bite to eat. Lauren had promised to have her half done by the next time she saw him, which meant he had to get busy, NOW, or else the project wasn't going to get done.

Each quick tap of the hammer on the stone brought another soft shear, until Robin found the exact thickness he was looking for. Obsidian was glass, after all, and sheared thinly enough, the impurities within sometimes would make swirling and vibrant color combinations. Right now, he was very happy with the thin lines of red and black that ran through the nearly clear remaining stone. The piece was only about the size of his thumb , but was perfectly smooth along two sides. He noted that he'd have to make certain that he covered the edges on the piece, because one of the unfortunate side effects of flaking glass was creating razor sharp edges.

He placed the stone on the workbench, and turned to his small metal forge. It wasn't much, just a few ceramic bricks hooked up to a burner, but it served the purpose. Time was that a farrier would have one of these and they were as common as dirt. He'd decided that if he was going to do this right he was going to at least have a serviceable frame.

Robin measured the item several times, making notes on a small pad of paper, before digging in a small box full of metal scraps. One piece in particular that caught his eye was a piece of aircraft aluminum that he had found on a walk outside the airport. Apparently somebody had just thrown the little metal bar away, and it would nearly be perfect. It took a good couple hours of measuring, filing, and shaping the piece on his bargain basement anvil before he finally had something he felt good about. Wasn't perfect, but at least it was cool enough to work with.

At this point, Robin had taken several breaks, including getting several cups of coffee. Working on the project needed to go at a leisurely pace, otherwise he'd burn out. A constant state of work could have made the piece in maybe an hour, but it wouldn't have been the same. One of the hardest things Robin had learned while working on his forge and at his flaking was patience. Good work took time and hurt.

The finished piece was a nearly clear narrow bar, shot through with ripples of black and red curls of metal and glass. Robin polished it as carefully as he could before setting it within the aluminum frame. and carefully bending the tabs he'd prepared around the glass. This entire process took much longer than he expected, and he heard the front door of the house slam shut several times while he was working.

Clearly the girls were back, but he wanted to finish what he was working on. It was only when he started noticing that it was becoming harder to see that he realized he'd been working on the piece all day, and completely lost track of time.

He looked down at the small glass and aluminum sculpture with the small rings set into the side for Lauren to attach beads at some point. One half of the project done. The slight chill in his nostrils from the surrounding air and the rumble in his stomach told him it was time to go inside.