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Tools (a microfiction ditty)
by X. Ho Yen
16 May 2021
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“Alright, thanks, everyone, for coming,” said Hand. “Let’s have some introductions. How ‘bout you, big guy?”
“Hi, everyone. I’m a Hammer. I see everything as a nail. It’s probably best if you don’t stand in my way for very long.”
Everyone chuckled and nodded. The Hand said, “Alright, that’s good, thanks,” and indicated to the next one.
“Hi. I’m Pliers. I’ve always overcome obstacles by squeezing and twisting, or helping Screwdriver or Spanner with holding, like holding a nut while they do the twisting. A lot of times I end up stripping the corners off stuff, because not every problem is solved by squeezing and twisting or holding, and even the ones that are should probably rely on Spanner or one of the Sockets, but it’s all I know. You stick with what you know, and you can’t live in fear, ya know?”
The other tools nodded and mumbled.
“Hi. I’m a Chisel. Most of the time I can’t get anything done without Hammer, and I’m alright with that. I’ve found that a lot of obstacles can be moved by driving a wedge into the right place, or with careful hewing or even reckless hacking. I like that variety in my life. Alright, sometimes I do wish I could make progress without a Hammer, but don’t tell him that.” The Chisels all smirked. All the Hammers rolled their eyes.
“Alright, nice, how about you?” Hand indicated to a metal rod with specialized tip and handle.
“Good afternoon. I’m a Screwdriver. I’m often very frustrated, because most of the time there’s no screw to screw in, and even when there is, it’s often the wrong type or the wrong size. Or it’s already been stripped by some idiot who wasn’t being careful or because the screw is made of a material that’s way too soft or maybe it needs to be driven into a hard material that didn’t get pre-drilled. Sometimes there’s a screw that needs to be removed, and that can be a tricky job, but it’s usually satisfying, at least for a while. Then it’s back to frustration. Sometimes, when no one’s looking, I act like a Chisel, but I always suffer for it.” The Screwdriver gave the Hand a sideways glance. The Hand pretended not to know what was being implied and slid over to the next tool.
“Hello. I’m also Hammer. Same deal, everything’s a nail.”
And on it went, same tools, same stories. The Hand started its project, and none of the tools cared what they’d be used for. They were just happy to be used in the ways they and their ancestors had always been used.