…inviting her to grasp its elegant handle. Its blade was shining, full of possibility. Slice, chop, cut, stab – it was a tool to be mastered. She could imagine honing the skills of the great culinary masters, like Gordon Ramsey or Jamie Oliver. She saw herself sharpening the blade like a pro, ready to wield its power in her dexterous hands.
Cabbage shredded, carrots julienned, peppers sliced, onions chopped, garlic minced. She savored the flavors that those words – shred, slice, chop, mince – brought to the imagination. The knife was inviting her into its world of possibilities.
She felt a strong urge to stick the knife into something. That orange would do – she could pierce it with gusto, separate it into chunks and watch its juice pour out. She would bring the fruit to her lips and be grateful for what the knife made possible.
She imagined all of this, but she stood frozen. The action was all in her head. Why wasn’t she moving towards the knife? The orange was sitting there, inviting her to take action. The vegetables in the refrigerator were begging to be chopped and sliced.
But she moved to the phone. It was easier to order takeout instead.
The knife was on the kitchen counter…
a short story by