Knives

Bad memories are like kitchen knives, aren't they? Devilishly sharp, an accident waiting to happen. Over time, if they are not used, they get tucked away too - you know how you might stick an old knife in that kitchen drawer that has all the odds and sods in. Maybe, if you're good, you'll wrap it for safekeeping (yours and the blade's), either in newspaper or, if you're a chef, in a proper old-school cloth knife bag. And there it would lie, forgotten.

Until such time as you reach into your kitchen's "random" drawer, scrabbling around for something else, maybe a fuse, or a tea-strainer. Maybe another memory. Perhaps you'd forgotten the knives were there. They might not be quite as shiny anymore but they're still sharp, just waiting to inflict a nasty injury should a grasping hand stray too close, perhaps inadvertently grabbing hold of something that it should really leave well along. Because however well you hide them, however cluttered and dark that drawer is, sharp knives will always cut deep.

Was going to accompany this with The Knife by (very early) Genesis but that's probably a bit niche for most of you. Here's a brilliant, if slightly disturbing, video from Radiohead instead.