He opened the old velvet lined box with a loud crack, taking out one of the four shaving blades which lay inside. Slowly, a bloodcurdling grin spread over his face as he lifted it up to the evening light streaming in the large window. The man turned it, admiring how the light shone off the silver at different angles. The man himself was aged beyond his years, after being torn from his family for over a decade, to find them not waiting for him. This was his friend. The only friend he needed from now on. After laying for so long in its box, it should have been rusted and dirty with age too, yet it gleamed radiantly, far more radiantly than he did. He ran a calloused finger along the flat of the blade, before shutting the blade into its handle once more, and replacing it in its box.
