not always for pockets
I found a little tiny pocket knife in an antique store today. I like its plaid and its worn down silver ends very much, and the fact that it will never ever match what I’m wearing.
It will be my little souvenir of Washington DC, especially if I can be sensible and mail it home instead of taking my chances at airport security next week. Even if they’re remiss where comically ineffective blades are concerned, my brother says that they’ll take one look and know I could threaten someone with tetanus.