Why not design knives with a stopper at the end or a double handle, still great for all kitchen use but terrible for murder.
The knife had a handle of cherry wood, and so it brought pink blossom to my culinary daydreams. I would cook and be reminded of those springtime occasions beneath the prettiest of boughs.
The knife carved our daily bread into generous slices, the kind that made Scooby-Doo sandwiches.
That knife was my right hand man in making our family meals. It's handle in my palm had become such a welcoming sensation.
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