Yaw Mensah

Yaw Mensah still holds a grudge against every tumbler batch that reaches polish before he has finished worrying over it, a feeling sharpened by decades timing deckside fish sorting and by retirement, which left him too much daylight for grit stages. He became impossible to talk to about the subject when a dull river pebble survived three grit changes, acquired a family display spot, and made him explain for forty minutes why patience had altered its provenance.