This post is dedicated to my husband – as this story would not be told if not for him.
When I tell people the story of the “reusable knife” – they first give me a confused look. Then by the time I finish explaining they tell me their own stories with great frustration.
Don’t be too shocked…but what you are about to read is real and hideous.
The Haunting of the Reusable Knife
Many believe that a reusable knife is just a knife made of heavy-duty plastic, stainless steel or some other material. But no, that’s not it at all.
The sun had set and darkness was covering the land. Monica was busy cooking in the kitchen and when she turned around – there it was. The knife. It was propped up on a plate. The same plate where her oils were kept on the kitchen counter. There was an eerie streak of light shining off the knife from the under-cabinet lighting. Monica gasped. She was afraid to touch it. After all, there was no reason at all for a lone knife to be lying on the plate. She decided to leave it alone, but it called her name. She glanced over her shoulder. It was still there. At the end of the evening, before Monica went to bed – it was still there.
The knife wasn’t quite so scary the next day when the sun was shining brightly, so Monica reluctantly put it in the sink to be washed. That night when it was dark again – there it was. The knife. This time there appeared to be peanut butter on the knife. Not only was the knife dirty, but buttery. Goo oozed from the knife and trickled onto the white plate.
Another day went by. Another day. Another knife.
That evening, Monica was chopping up some carrots for her dinner soup. When she was about to chop the onions, she glanced sideways and there it was. This time, the knife’s edges were covered with bread crumbs. Before bed, the knife beckoned Monica, but she refused to pick it up. She would not give in to its calls.
The next morning, the breaded knife was lying on the oil plate. Again, the sun seemed to soften the white glows. And again reluctantly, Monica put the knife in the sink. Dinner would be made early that evening because her family had to go out afterwards. Rushing to put together a meal, Monica ran around the kitchen gathering things. Suddenly, when she was putting things on the counter. There is was. Another knife. This time, it was covered in juice from an apple or some kind of fruit. It glistened with slime and tempted Monica to go closer. A very gutsy dare from a knife, she thought. Monica was strong and did not battle with the knife that night.
To be continued…
Yes, this is how this story ends lol. But trust me, the knives do not stop popping up every day. Such a seemingly small/trivial thing just drives me insane! My husband claims that he keeps the knives there “in case” he needs to use it again. But I have never seen one being “re-used”. I ask him every day when he plans to ‘re-use’ it, but he only laughs. One day, a second knife got propped on the first knife. Then for some reason, he cleared one away and left the other. I asked him why and he said he wasn’t sure if it was his! OMG!
In this thing called life – one can hint and keep hinting or say it outright, but the plight may remain unheard.
BTW – what’s your “STORY”? I would love to hear from you!