April 4, 2017 by esinkircali



Black Smith by Niu

With the old man’s first move, I already know what I will become. He pulled me out the fire, held the hammer and started to swage. This metal working process was a little bit painful. Yet, I don’t  mind the fire or that dirty and heavy hammer, because I know it has to be for my future perfectness.

The old man is weak and tired. He is doing his best, but it’s not enough for me and I can’t wait. Poor little me… I’m too excited about my shape. All this time I was just a shapeless steel, shaggy, matt and ugly. But in a couple of days, I will become a gorgeous shoe buckle. I’m hoping to become a red and leather shoe. It isn’t really a big issue for me of course, even if the old man will put me on a black and ugly man shoe, pleasure will be mine. Even imagining that pretty shoes make me thrill. I can’t wait to see them.

With old man and his hammer’s cooperation, I’m more looking like a beautiful buckle in every moment. If only there is a way to speed up this process. Even the morose hammer wanting to help me. He usually doesn’t care about steel. They always come and go, even making a small conversation with them is unnecessary for him. Although, he thinks there is something different about me and my passion. I bet he thinks my passion is just a youth thing, a phase. I’m sure even when he’s young, sharp and shiny; he didn’t mind being a hammer, or a knife, or a buckle. He doesn’t have the thing that keeping me alive. For this reason, he’s not right about me. I never met a hammer before but according to conversations I heard, all hammers are just like him. They are all aimless and all they believe that they are wisest creatures in that World. If he ever talks some of the other steels, he can see the truth: He’s not special and I am not like the others, I do have a purpose. He cannot understand me, I know that, but at least he shows respect my passion and trying to help me. When the old man using him, he is gathering his all strength to make me more beautiful.

When old man left the room, scary thoughts came to haunt me. What if he is going to sleep? Hearing old man’s snoring can make me devastated because that noise means I can’t be a shoe buckle tonight. I’m praying for him to make me complete. Oh, there he comes! There is a nice looking rasp in his hand, which that means I’m almost done!

The old man makes me into a kind of small buckle and that makes me think I will be a kid’s shoe buckle. I will help a little, cute girl to keep her little yellow shoe on her feet. I’m dreaming about how little girl’s little finger couldn’t untie me and how little girl’s father help his daughter.

When I was lost in dreams, the hammer is starting to laugh. I know he is envying me, but what about all that noise? Is there a piece of wood in old man’s hands? Will he combine me with that cheap wood? No! Will I be a hammer? What about little yellow shoes? Or red leather one?  Black shoes are good enough for me but please, not a hammer! A shallow, worthless, pedant creature…Who would know that our destiny is in that foolish man! Yes, I will be a hammer. Being miserable is pointless now, and I can’t fight with the old man. All I can do is hoping they will put me in a room without a mirror.

Author Info: Esin Kircali, MA Cand., Clinical Psychology Program (Baskent Un., Ankara) | email: esinkircali [AT] gmail[.]com


One thought on “Smithery

  1. RedheadedBooklover says:

    Hi there! I just came across this post of yours and your blog in general and I couldn’t help but comment and tell you how much I adore your blog and love this post! Keep up the great work, I am going to follow you so I can keep up with all your new posts!


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