Sinister Tales-My Beloved or for the Love of a Deceitful Cheese Grater

Dear Friends I must tale you of heartbreak. I instituted myself going through an incident of psychosis, day in and day out. I would assemble upon a chair and ogle fixedly at my cheese grater whilst listening to classical works of marvelous composers. I found my left eye twitching along with every tick of the minute hand. Grisly thoughts packed my wicked yet blameless mind in a way that is similar to items needed be bought filled the head of the average patron without a list. Ha, I said aloud when I imagined the modest elderly lady upstairs plummeting face first into her soup due to the poison I placed into it, oh the way bodily fluids would escape upon her at the moment of passing, such humiliation can stir of a grin in the most whole-hearted of us, but only those afflicted with the madness will simply say ha!, smile and kindly walk away to let nature clean up the rest, after all the rats need to eat too.

One day approximately the hour of one P.M it seems my psychosis broke and my concentrated curious stares into the holes of my cheese grater have turned into an adoring smile. I embraced the cheese grater with the highest affection. Oh what wonderful times we had with the variety of cheeses I possessed: Cheddar, Swiss, Gouda, Jarlsberg, Grana Pandano, Aged kashkaval and my dear neighbor’s scalp. It was a rapport to commit to memory, something to be venerated and cherished without end, at least I thought it that way until I found my cheese grater with a slab of Velveeta and I never looked at it the same way again. Such dismay and woe, such dismay and woe!