My father handed me this tool, saying I might need it one day. I still don’t know what it’s for, and he just laughs whenever I ask. The handle is hollow.
I found it at the very bottom of my toolbox, hidden beneath layers of rusted screws, worn-out gloves, and small parts I no longer remembered collecting. It looked like something from a different era, a forgotten piece of metal that had somehow survived years of being ignored. At first glance, it didn’t resemble anything I…