The Fluidity of Steel

I hesitate to write about this, because it might make me sound delusional. But just take it as fiction — unless you have had a similar experience, yourself.

Years ago, I bought a Celtic war sword online. Not a real one, of course, a reproduction. The hilt has a nice anthropomorphic shape in brass, with the handle fashioned of a very attractive wood.

When I was a young Shakespearean actor, I loved collecting swords of all sorts. But now that I’m a scrawny old guy, I really have no use for them anymore. I look silly carrying one. They’re not allowed at the Ren Fest anyway.

But when I took this Celtic sword to a pawn shop in hopes of getting a few bucks for it, one major drawback worked against it.

When the pawnbroker drew the sword out of its sheath, he was faced with the word PAKISTAN in quarter-inch high letters, etched deeply into the top of the blade. Steel from that country has a reputation for being inferior. “Too bad,” he said. “It looked really nice at first.”

I brought it home and hung it back on the wall, and left it alone for a couple of years. I recently took it down and pulled it out again. The word Pakistan was still there, but it had shrunk to only one eighth of an inch tall — barely noticeable!