Day 25: The last thing you touched is trying to kill you. Explain why.
My blanket wants to kill me. Why, you ask? Simple. Because it can. This blanket was knitted with the sharpest needles, using the strongest yarn. Its disdain for me radiates outward in a star pattern. The alternating colors scream like a battle cry as it wraps itself around my face. What did I do to deserve this? Nothing. Nothing other than drape it gently across my lap or cuddle with it lovingly on a cold winter’s night. You’d think this would endear me to the blanket but apparently it has delusions of grandeur and would rather be used as a cape. Or sail. Or anything, really. As long as it’s free. Which means suffocating me to death so it can flutter off into the sunset.