Steak Knife in My Eye

Working on a new story about a man with a steak knife in his eye. And it goes a little something like this:

I have a steak knife lodged in my eye. It’s not as bad as it sounds. Only half the blade actually goes into my eye, and the rest of it, the other half of the blade and the wooden handle . . . That's all wrapped in gauze and anchored into a patch covering the entire eye socket. Most of the nerves are long dead. Occasionally, when I sneeze, I get this searing pain that actually feels like it’s coming from inside my ear, but that’s about it.

Makes it hard to meet chicks though. That’s for sure. When I walk by, they gasp or turn their eyes down and away as if they are suddenly searching for something in the shoes of strangers. When I get the balls to approach one in a bar they struggle to maintain eye contact, spill sips of apple martini onto their laps, and ask me what happened.

I explain the “accident” with my ex-wife. How the doctors said removing the knife without surgery would risk permanent brain damage or death. How I was scheduled for the surgery but, after living with a steak knife in my face for a few days, decided I didn’t want to give it up. I’d noticed certain powers it seemed to give me.. . . .

Who knows what will beocme of this? The rest of what I got so far revolves around performance art, sex, misogyny, and more cuttlery. I'll let you know where it goes.

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