Eat, Knife, Love

His mornings all began like this: he ate the best of the food he had purchased the day before, he knelt in front of the little stand that held the bloodstained knife that he had killed his brother with, and he walked through the city looking for love. I know, this is where you might say that he should just go along Canal Street with a hundred dollars, and then there would be no need for all this walking, but it was not that kind of love that he was looking for. It wasn't even love for himself. It was a love that he could feel for others. Kind of a zen thing, you might say. He'd walk past a park, and he'd sit for an hour and watch a puppy playing with a frisbee. Or he'd stand outside a bakery and just--smell. Only once did he lurk outside of a daycare center to watch the little kids. For starters, sometimes they howled and screamed and punched each other, which didn't help the love, and for another, they called the cops on him.

Inspiration: The various parody titles my friends came up with when I was working on titles for "Satisfaction of the Knife." - specifically prof_vencire's.
Story Potential: Medium
Notes: Doesn't feel speculative, but it should. But I love the narrator voice on this one.