George had always loved working with stone. As a small child he had collected rocks, a practice which didn't please his parents as it ended with either piles of rocks in corners of their house or small rocks getting lost in the rug, only to be found when an unsuspecting foot came across them. They didn't understand how this small brown rock was needed when he already had that small brown rock. George would try to show them how this one had a smoother feel while having a rougher shape whereas that one had a rougher feel while having a smoother shape, but they still didn't get it.
When he got older, the would try and build little structures out of rocks. He built little castles for his little action figures that his little toy trucks would knock down. He wondered if one day, when he was big, he would work with big rocks to build big things.
He did end up working in construction and while he didn't always work with rocks, he enjoyed it the best when he did. He still loved the feel of stone and he felt proud to look at what he he'd made in the end. Stone was solid, it was lasting. He could go back for decades and look at the stone homes he'd help build.
However, construction proved to be more of a dangerous job than he bargained for. He ended up injuring his hands multiple times and ended up losing the tips of some of his fingers. Construction work no longer seemed like his best plan.
Feeling lost, he went back to his childhood habit and began collecting rocks. He was pickier now as an adult, a small brown rock was no longer enough to spark his interest. He loved the smooth look of a lot of the dark stones that were scattered around where he lived. One day, he found one that had a deep groove in it and that gave him an idea.
George brought a few of the rocks home and took out some of his tools. He put one of the stones in the vice on his workbench and took out his chisel and a large hammer. He quickly found that he could very easily carve lines into the stones. At first, he just practiced carving straight lines, getting a hang of the tools again. Then he branched out and began to draw leaves and trees and eventually his talent grew and he was able to draw spirals and then could lace them together into triskelions.
His wife and friends encouraged him to keep going and to try and sell some of his pieces. At first, he sold large slabs of stone that he'd carved intricately. These had some success, but mostly friends bought them. His wife pointed out that tourists could be a great market for him, but that large stones wouldn't appeal because no one actually wants a suitcase that feels like it's filled with rocks. She suggested he try his hands at jewelry. George was happy he'd married such a smart woman. So he set out once more and hunted for small stones that would work well as necklaces.
Soon, he was able to set up a stand along the pier, where the ferries came in. He had some stones that he'd already carved, with the patterns he'd grown used to carving and he also learned about how to carve the ogham, an ancient Medieval, alphabet. He found that tourists loved the authenticity of it all. Stones from Ireland carved by an Irishman with ancient Irish. He carved names and even began to have ones prepped with words that held meaning to a lot of people: journey, friendship, love.
The people who bought his jewelry were always excited to watch him work, snapping pictures and chatting happily with him, even when it was raining. It hadn't been how he'd imagined his work as a little boy, after all he wasn't working with big stones anymore, but he loved it anyways. He found that the small stones could bring as big of a smile to an adult's face as they had brought to his as a young boy and what more could he ask for?
(Prompt by Kimisha Cassidy)
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