Spoon

I found a spoon placed on top of an unused Yellow Pages near the centre of the table. Rather than simply observing it, I picked it up and placed it at my left. The spoon is not directly in contact with the table. It rests on top of two black leads running into my laptop. It needs to be washed. Traces of avocado are evident. The head is streaked with a light sense of oral contact. Milky streaks extend from the curved crown down to the neck. Soft reflections of the overhead light run down its narrow frame. I have no sense of how long the spoon has been there and can only wonder that I have not noticed it before. I had hoped to see something more than uncleanliness in its greyish silver depths, but instead I see only a spoon that needs to be washed. I am determined to only speak positively of what I see, to not invent scenes that bear no relation to the experience of the spoon itself, but now I am tempted to speak of salamanders and exotic moonlit scenes.