I have invented a new type of Swiss Army Knife.
Gone will be the scissors, the blade, the file.
In their place, a rabbit’s ear. Soft and lucky, to remind us that superstition can be a comfort in the face of cruel realities.
Tucked in there, too, a bell, to sing out in joy, to solemnly toll grief. Its peals will carry great distances, to remind us of the power of truth.
Folded away also, a single warm sock, humorously coloured and carefully knitted to remind us that loss is inevitable, but so too is love.
The corkscrew can stay.