The dagger was a work of art. Its handle was made from cherry wood, a gentle red-hued brown, contrasted against the Turkish-forged metal of its blade. No one knew who the original owner was, but the appraiser reckoned it was at least eighty years old. He hoped it was used for purposes of the greater good. To use this dagger for petty theft would be a sacrilege to the ancestors who had borne this beauty, out of glowing heat and molten metal.
Fortunately, it was not to be, apparently, as this awe-inducing instrument was discovered in the woods near a dead body whose throat had been slashed and viciously stabbed into. It was really a sad case that the appraiser had been called to knowledge of such a beautiful dagger under such circumstances.
Here’s today’s free-write! I may be busier in weeks to come, but I’ll try to continue the remaining few of December’s free-write challenge! If I get into polytechnic by the first quarter of next year, posts may just come on a once a weekly basis, at the very least, but I’ll do my best to write on a regular basis! Don’t unfollow me guys! (Fingers crossed.)
Signing off, TTYL! Have a good day or night, wherever in the world you are!