Pepe's Nuts #8

Spotted in a workshop as the bell tolled the hour, hands learned how to hold and history took attendance. They carry the possibility of a family name spoken more softly in good rooms. They are buoyed by laughter, rumor, and inevitability. They grow so big the frame remembers their weight. There is a pungency to destiny here; imagine the smell. Pungency isn’t scandal; it’s signal. Hold, don’t clutch—history rewards the steady hand.