Imagine you’re in a deli that’s been owned by a family for generations. There are heavy legs of cured meat on the wall and lots of halogen lights illuminating the cold cases. Above the cases stands a man. In the man’s hand is a cleaver. In his other hand is a rag. Tell me what the rag looks like then tell me how the cleaver feels. If the cleaver could be anything else, what would it be? Is there regret?