I walked into the knife store to buy a good knife.
I was tired of dealing with cheap, dollar store knives. I needed a man’s knife so I went to get a man’s knife.
“I need a man’s knife.” I declared to the Knife-Man.
“You aren’t cut out for knifing, I can see it in your eyes.” The Knife-Man said to me.
“You don’t know me, Knife-Man.” I said to the Knife-Man.
We stared at each other for a very long time.
He was right so I left.
Read all of my short stories at thecaseydonahue.com/shortstories.