Chudik
He was never meant to be perfect. Born under the strikes of a hammer, shaped by eye and instinct, he endured countless reworkings, soldered seams, acid baths, and tests - until he was finally melted back into a featureless ingot.
For many hours he watched my work - perhaps even envied it. Everything that came from my hands was measured, cut, and polished with more precision than he ever had. In time, he seemed to accept his own imperfection and quietly pondered the meaning of his existence and its inevitable end.
Yet his image turned out to be needed. And though he will never know it, he still managed to make the world a little warmer. His successor now sets out to bring joy to his new owner.
For many hours he watched my work - perhaps even envied it. Everything that came from my hands was measured, cut, and polished with more precision than he ever had. In time, he seemed to accept his own imperfection and quietly pondered the meaning of his existence and its inevitable end.
Yet his image turned out to be needed. And though he will never know it, he still managed to make the world a little warmer. His successor now sets out to bring joy to his new owner.