The Knife

Nick looked at the dead man in his hallway, and then stared at the knife in his hand. There wasn’t anything particularly special about the knife, other than the fact that it was a big knife. Doggoned near a machete. There didn’t seem to be anything particularly special about the dead guy in his hallway either, except that he was a big man…as big as Nick himself, actually. And the fact that he was currently in a serious discussion with the base of Nick’s coat rack.

Big knife for a big man. Surprised, Nick chuckled a bit at the thought. Then he realized he had no idea how he had ended up in this predicament. Not so funny NOW, is it boyo?

No…not funny at all, because the last thing Nick remembered was enjoying a plate of eggs Benedict and a glass of OJ, while watching that guy that used to be fat yak about the weather. The TV was still blaring, ex fat-guy was still yakking, but instead of poached eggs, Nick had obviously been chopping up something else.

Then he noticed the cube. He hadn’t seen it until now, because it was blood red, so it pretty much matched the color of his once beige hall rug, and was lying several inches from Mr. Hallway’s outstretched fingers. Nick dropped the knife and reached for the cube.

Nick’s insides seem to explode….light, heat, a plethora of sensations suddenly assaulted him. He tried to drop the cube, then suddenly realized he wasn’t holding it. It was lying on the hallway floor. As he reached for it again, three things suddenly struck him.

The hallway carpet was a clean beige. Once-chubby guy was extolling the virtues of warm weather. And that was an awfully big knife that was coming around the corner from the kitchen.

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