The Universe's Mixer

Dexter remembered very clearly that she'd said to not come back. But he'd told her that if he ever figured out how to fix himself, he'd bring the knife back for safe keeping. Clearly she'd thought that would never happen.

Wasn't she ever going to be surprised.

He'd wrapped the thing up inside of it's sheath in a towel. He hadn't wanted to touch it ever again, lest he be tempted by it. The book was with him as well. If he didn't have the knife, he didn't need the book. And he needed no reminders of either.

Very carefully, Dexter walked into the store, trying to be as nonthreatening as possible.

"Hello?"