She turned and she looked at her dad. Her moist eyes then travelled around the room and pointed at the sturdy length of leather dangling from the wall.
The ‘strap’ was a wide and thick razor strop. She never knew how it came to be in their house, and she never felt like asking, but it has been there for as long she can remember. Most of the time it just hung there useless. But the few times it has been removed from the wall there were hell to pay. Her dad made sure of that. But he also made sure his offspring felt forgiven and reassured of his love once it was put back in its place.
