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About Balzers

Walk slow, talk soft. That’s my trick. They smell fear. Like dogs. Or desperation. I’m sittin’ there, thinkin’. *Why’m I even here?* Then I spot her. Leanin’ on a lamppost. Skirt’s too short. Eyes like Therese’s—searchin’. “You don’t know me,” she’d say. Like in the movie. But I see her. I always do.

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First off, I hit up the main street, Hauptstraße. It’s always buzzing, ya know? People rushin’ around, cars honking like they’re in a race. I’m just tryin’ to set up my little sharpening stand, but nooo, the universe had other plans. My first customer, this dude, comes up with a rusty old knife. I mean, it looked like it had been through a war. I’m like, “Bro, you sure you wanna sharpen this?” He just nods, all serious. I’m thinkin’, “Okay, let’s see what I can do.”

Micah Schellenberg