A man enters an office supply store. He was a mere mortal seconds before, but as he passes through the door he becomes a customer. His superior gaze drifts across his domain and settles on the cashier.
“Do you sell stamps?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say,” However-”
“I want one.”
“However, we sell them only in sets of ten.”
“But I want one.”
“I’m sorry, Sir, but I can’t sell you a single stamp.”
“Can’t you just…” He (skillfully) mimicks the act of ripping apart paper.
Clearly, I have never thought of this. My simple mind grapples with the idea. I realize I am dealing with a genius, and yet, I regretfully inform him, “Sorry. They come on stickersheets, and anyways, the barcode–”
“Well that’s just rubbish,” he informs me. He is right. I realize this now. His genius ignites a spark within me.
“You are right,” I tell him as I take fifteen sheets of stamps into my hands and begin to tear them apart. I type 0,019 stamps and press a non-existent key on the register. I hold out a quarter of a stamp to the customer (with a smile), but he shakes his head (without a smile). I rip apart all the stamps I can find, desperate to please him, for he has gifted this humble store with his presence. From the pieces, I begin to assemble a perfect, custom-made stamp. It is worth exactly 66,66€. I single-handedly reprogramme not only my cash desk, but the entire system. It can now scan any stamp in (or out of) existence. It is raining stamps. I am smiling.
Two hours later, it is done. Beaming, and covered in the torn remains of hundreds of unfortunate stamps, I hold the perfect stamp out to The Customer. He accepts it. I rejoice. It might just be my high fever and blurry gaze, but I think the right corner of his mouth moved upwards for exactly half a second. I am blessed.
He licks the stamp and slaps it onto a letter. He wants to lend a pen. I lend him a pen. When he is done, he holds the letter out to me expectantly. He does not say a word, my silent angel, but I can tell what he wants. Thus is our connection. There is nothing, I assure you, nothing I would have rather done than to accept his letter, on my knees, with tears of gratitude streaming down my cheeks… But alas:
“I want to send the letter,” my dear customer finally says, after the silence has stretched into infinity and back.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Sir,” I say with a polite smile, brushing stamps off my shoulders, “We don’t accept mail. We only sell stamps.”
After all, you can’t make exceptions to a well-established rule in the workplace.
The customer doesn’t bat an eyelash. “That’s okay,” he says with a disarming smile. “I wouldn’t ask the impossible of you.”
As he turns to walk away, a single tear rolls down my cheek. I wipe it off with a stamp that wears his majestic face, hand-stitched by me.
I don’t tell him there’s a mailbox around the corner.
“These woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep…” -R.F. 🌲
As if I needed another reason to love potatoes 🥔 I made the leaf stamp used on this page out of one ☝🏽
1. you listen to my words more often than i do, you teach me to be careful by not what i say, but how i say it
2. we can be doing nothing, but you’d swear this is everything, in this very moment, this is where you want to be and you know what? it’s such a silly and cliché thing, but it’s hella cute
3. i can make no sense at all, but you’ll swear that it’s the funniest thing. you see, a sense of humor like yours– the world needs your kind of lightness. like pressed roses saved forever, you make a garden of who i am feel safe again
4. if my heart is an origami, then you have turned me into a thousand paper cranes made from the sweetest love poems, i love you stamped with your lipstick into each one
5. you don’t know about happiness most days, but when you do, i swear i’d keep that smile safe anyway that i can, there are many ways as to why i love you, this is just one of them. because life isn’t always about being happy, it’s about properly dealing with your sadness too. you taught me that.
6. we are a million miles away, but you make the stars feel closer
7. we don’t talk every single day, but when we do, it’s like we resumed from where we left off, an eternal pause in your favorite movie, we’ll return to a state of carefree and i need that after a long day
8. your way of loving someone is constantly being there, your friends love you in the same way that i do. you’re there for everyone and it worries me, because if you’re there for everyone, who’s there for you when nightfalls? when your heart breaks and the tears fall, who puts it back together, who dries them from your face? you love people, you genuinely love people. and i admire that rare quality.
9. a promise is a promise is a promise is a promise. and loving you is just another shooting star waiting to grant wishes.
10. you say that my scars are a map for future lovers, a chipped heart is just a cave and their kisses are torches that light where i cannot see. so just in case if i’m ever lost because i have damaged them or them to me, i’ll always find my way back to you.
For your reading enjoyment! Love you, @peetabreadgirl! For those who have asked, I do plan on getting this whole thing up on AO3 and FF.net eventually, It just hasn’t been a priority right now.
“This is stupid,” I protest, squirming in their grip. Really, I’m terrified of seeing him again so soon when I still haven’t figured out what yesterday meant and what I’m going to do. I hate not having control of my life and Madge and Jo have seized control and are ordering the mass executions of dissenters.
“It’s brilliant and it’s going to work,” Johanna insists.
“You look amazing, Katniss,” Madge reassures me, referring to the tight as fuck skinny jeans, the loose shirt that falls off one shoulder, and the lacy underthings they somehow managed to procure and forced me into. I think Jo may have broken into my apartment and raided my panty drawer before she came here. They even held me down and forced mascara and lip gloss on my face.
“Peeta won’t be able to resist you, which makes your job easier. And it’s not really a job at all, right? You like him. You think he’s hot. His kisses turn your legs to pudding. And he really likes you. This’ll be good for both of you. I just know it.”
It’s been a week since I received my real 22k gold, silver and copper sheets. I had an adhesive named Fixor from two years ago, but since in the online shop there was another adhesive very cheap, I decided to give it a try, in case Fixor was expired or to try it for when I ran out of Fixor.
Anyway, for my tests I glued two scraps of leather, black and brown, and blind tooled with no heat a stamp. Also, I made some very thin lines to test a pallet (you only stamp a pallet once, as it is very difficult to very precise when reestamping). I applied one layer of Fixor on the stamps and two on the pallets separated by ten minutes (that is how I was taught to do it). I also applied the other adhesive. While Fixor penetrates on the leather and is barely noticeable, the other one is sticky and messy.
Anyway, after waiting for about one hour on Fixor to make sure it is dry and about 30 minutes on the other one so it starts its effect, I started… and I quickly noticed my mistake: that glue I had bought was useless for my purpose. It sticks all the layer, not just the tooled parts. And then I understood that that glue was used in restoration to gild marks or stuff where the whole sheet of gold needed to stuck. After I realized this, I continued with Fixor and came to this:
I used a cushion and a special knife to cut the metal. Then I moved it as I could to where the stamp was. I had previously put a touch of almond oil on the stamp, so the metal wouldn’t fly. I can’t stress enough how lightless the sheet is, how even breathing it flies. One must be extremely careful, because if it crumbles, it becomes dust. Also, it sticks to your fingers and it crumbles.
Anyway, once the cut sheet is on the stamp, the tool is heated. To know when the tool is ready, I had a wet sponge. I pressed the tool on the sponge and if it made sound, it was too hot. Once there is no sound, I wait for 5 seconds to cool it on the air and then I gently apply it to the stamp. When I am sure the tool is well positioned I press hard, moving it left and right, north and south and diagonally.
When the tool is out, with some cloth I remove the rest of the gold. Sometimes you can help yourself with an awl on the small places.
And it was returning that awl to its place I put my arm on the pallet, which was still pretty hot. A cry was made and a visit to the doctor was appropiate. The nurse cured me and three days after that is how the burn looked:
Fortunately, it appears it won’t leave a scar, so yay!!
Anyway, by the time I got hurt, I was almost done and these are some close ups:
After that test I have gilded some books. I actually intended using copper on the black one, but I forgot and used gold.
I am particularly happy with this one. That mark was made with a wheel.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this post and let me know if you have any questions or suggestions.