The dry earth below me darkened as beads of sweat rained down from my overheated face. My skin tight and leathery from the intensity of the sun, was almost painful to move. My right hand had begun to tire and throb. Resting the sharp stone on my leg, I slowly closed and opened my bruised and bloodied fist, attempting to relax the stiff muscles. It wasn’t working.
This time, I grasped the stone with my left hand, and hunched over, focusing all of my attention on the task, blocking out the pain that flowed through my hand and up my arm, and if I was honest, into my heart. Slowly and diligently, I continued to chip away at the long bamboo stalk. I felt the rigid flesh around my parched lips move and a smile take form. Seeing the sharp tip finished made me happy. My work was nearly done.
Standing tall, I held the spear out in front of me, examining it. Resting the blunt end down onto the ground placed the spear tip at nearly eye-level. Twisting it from left to right, I inspected the weapon, looking for any sign of weakness or imperfection. Had I more materials on hand, the tool could have been that much better, but all in all I remained pleased with its completion.
Taking a seat once again on the large log just outside of camp, I looked upward, examining the location of the sun.…
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