Glass, My Immortal Enemy

Every superhero has an arch-nemesis. Every Jerry Seinfeld has his Newman. Every Rose... a thorn.

I have glass.

We have a pretty safe history, the two of us. More than a few incursions that left me with scars. Nothing that wasn't my fault, really.

But glass dulls my knives.

I can slice a frozen turkey in half with the draw of my angled wrist. I can quarter whole baking potatoes with no force but gravity. But you put my knives on a glass cutting board... and I can't even mince tarragon.

"Damn you, Glass!" I exclaimed, my fist raised high, a proclamation of my anger. "I'll find a way... I will find a way..."

...That doesn't include ten minutes of sharpening.