@PastelTart
Here's a part of a story I'm writing, please give me some feedback!
In my house, in the kitchen, we keep all our silverware in one drawer. There's this little divider thing in there, so the forks and spoons are seperate.
The thing is, there's no spot for sporks. Recently, a very beautiful spork has come into my possession.
Like I said before, there's no spot for sporks.
I asked my dad where to put the spork. He said, "I don't know."
"Well, it's a spoon, isn't it?" I said. He said no. "Then it must be a fork." I said. He said no again.
"It's both and neither at the same time." He said. "Just put it in with the chopsticks and stuff."
That night, I couldn't sleep. I couldn't get my brain to shut off. I kept thinking about that spork, and what else it could mean.
I'm a spoon. Or at least I have been, for as long as I can remember. But lately, I've been feeling more like a spork. I think maybe I am. Both and neither at the same time.
I have lots of friends who used to be spoons and are forks now. I have a lot of spork friends. But my dad sees the forks as spoons, and the sporks as one or the other. When I'm around him, I have to call the forks spoons, or he'll get mad, even though they really are forks.
Does transphobia exist in the silverware world? Do forks and spoons and sporks all accept each other for who they are?
Maybe they'd accept that I'm a spork. Both and neither at the same time.
Oh, this…
This is beautiful.