From Prisoner of Paradise...
The man did not seem to notice my fascination towards the blade. A more conventional sales approach would have been to show me the blade and tell me a little about its symbols, but he did nothing of the sort. Perhaps he wanted me to help myself, so I decided to do that very thing.
I focused on the knife, so masterful and precious, and slowly moved to grasp it tightly. Its feel made me shiver. I felt the material underneath the blade quiver, as would the liver of a cow when touched. The carvings felt like skin on top of living muscles. It came out easily, without any resistance. That was the first time the man really seemed to catch sight of me, though his eyes had been fixed on me the entire time. There was alarm in his stare. I didn’t know what he meant by it, but too late – the knife was already in my hands.
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