In the dream I hold every tool I ever owned

I'm standing in a workshop that isn't mine, and every tool I've ever owned is laid out on a long bench — even the ones I sold, even the ones that broke. I'm not fixing anything. I'm just walking the line, touching each handle like a rosary, and the wood in the corner keeps whispering which one it wants. I wake up with my hands empty and that's not sad, exactly. It's just accurate.