It walks in sporkness, like the night
Of spotless kitchen drawers and shiny utensils;
And all that’s best of fork and spoon
Meet in its aspect and its tines
Thus mellow’d to that tender kitchen implement
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
These words flashed through my mind as I gazed at the one utensil I had never utilized, the lowly spork. Enjoy this interview with a non-sentient tool used commonly to handle food.
How old are you, what grade are you in, and what is your name?
I am 900 years old, as sporks have no life span. As I have never gone to school, I don’t have a grade. Finally, my name is Spork, the name of all sporks.
How did you come to be a spork?
I became a spork when a fork and a spoon merged together after being melted in Pompeii by Mount Vesuvius’ explosion. After the fork and the spoon were melted, the molten metal fell directly into a mold for a spork, thus imbuing me with life.
How did you come from the ruins of Pompeii to reside in my kitchen drawer?
As I languished in the ruins for many centuries, it occurred to me that if I positioned myself in a certain way, I would glint in the sunlight, possibly attracting the attention of some of the visiting archaeologists. That way, I could have a chance at escaping the dusty, dreadful place where the bodies of my former overlords lay!
One of the curious archaeologists picked me up and stowed me away. My ticket out of here! Unfortunately, I was sold for a pittance on Amazon and ended up in your disgusting, deep, dark, and dank kitchen drawer, where I have resided for centuries.
What does it feel like to be a spork?
Imagine that you were an outcast, scorned by everyone whom you encountered, even your close relatives. This is how life plays out for a spork. Ah, I wish that I was simply a fork, or a spoon, and was accepted by everyone whom I encountered. Alas, it is not to be.
What’s your passion, and why do you enjoy it?
My passion is holding food for a living. Ah, the varying consistencies and the delicious fragrances of the food that I clutch! In fact, I enjoy holding food so much that I practice it almost every day.
What is something you would like to do one day and why?
One day I would like to skydive without a parachute. It has always been my ambition to fall out of a plane without a parachute and land softly on the sidewalk.
Do you have any other sentiments that you would like to share?
Yes. I would like to comment on sporks’ rights. Sporks are often mistreated; for example, I was left in your kitchen drawer for 200 years. We are frequently unused and kept from enjoying our lives, stowed away in seldom-opened closets or sometimes even thrown away. This serious violation of sporks’ rights must be amended, lest we all go extinct.
In conclusion, the fall of the bourgeoisie and the rise of the proletariat are equally inevitable!
<https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Ice_cream_fork,_Shreve_%26_Company,_Iris_service,_silver,_1903-1917.jpg> (Wmpearl / CC0)