was to facilitate, give some point to getting up more often in the night. After all, he had only just had a cup. Bewildered, he switched on the kettle, emptied the teapot and, having once again put two heaped spoonfuls of tea into it, threw the caddy spoon into the bin.

Of course being superhuman he could live without the things that mere mortals had to have. His lips may be parched… he may be hungry. Indeed, he may be very hungry; but so what. He was immortal, he could simply will himself full. He had to admit though, that he felt a little weak, subdued, tired. It was strange in one so young. What he needed was a nice cup of tea, a nice cup of very sweet tea.

He had to judge the amount of sugar by balancing the granules on the handle of a fork, for he could not find a teaspoon anywhere. It was really most peculiar, he had had lots of them once. One really did need to keep one’s eyes on one’s teaspoons.

Whilst waiting for his tea to cool, he wandered into the garden vaguely searching. “Where are those spoons?” he muttered as he looked toward the drain at the bottom of the waste pipe.

There were none there… so there you are… proof, they had not gone down the plughole. He felt he was beginning to build a picture that might help solve this mystery. They were not in the bowl, not in the drawer, not in the drain… the field was narrowing.

As he walked back into the living room he kicked the cup of tea that he had put on the floor, near the settee, over the carpet. Then before he could stop himself, placed his slippered foot into the mire.

“Oh sugar! Sugar! Sugar!” he grumbled as he fell on all fours. Distracted, yet determined to save the precious liquid, he sucked at the carpet. The tea was not sweet, not enough sugar he thought. The hessian stuck between his teeth, felt slimy and made him feel nauseous. It wasn’t a very good idea really, sucking the carpet. If anything it had made him feel thirstier than ever. Perhaps he should make himself a pot of tea.

This time he had to judge by eye how much tea to put in the pot for there quite simply was not a spoon to be found in the house. Unless… perhaps… were they hiding behind the cushions on the settee? He looked at

the sofa suspiciously… he never had trusted it… never looked you in the eye, evasive, grey. It was a possibility he had not previously given any thought to, but it made sense. Perhaps the spoons were angry at constantly being submerged in boiling water. Perhaps it was for them a case of any port in a storm. It could be that whilst to the human eye it was not the best settee that one might lounge on, to an abused spoon, it appeared to be the safest of harbours.

Geoff rummaged around lifting first one cushion then the other. It was a dirty job but never mind, he had a plastic shopping bag for the waste. There was everything in this settee, it was a veritable warehouse: bits of jigsaw, a couple of pound coins, some small change, an old cat collar (which he thought rather curious for he had never owned a cat) some cheese turned green, ancient boiled sweets, elastic bands, knitting wool, a plastic knife and fork. You name it this settee had it… well, apart from any teaspoons that is.

By the time he abandoned his search the shopping bag was full and the spilt tea on the carpet had a layer

The hessian stuck between
his teeth, felt slimy and made him feel nauseous. It wasn’t a very good idea really, sucking the carpet.

of fluff attached to its surface. He lay on the settee bemused… bewildered. He looked at the ceiling and spoke into the void of the empty room. “The sensible thing would be to go shopping, buy some more spoons… but what if there were none… what if the market place were spoonless?” This was a possibility, for clearly there was a conspiracy in progress. It was time to face the facts. Spoons were in revolt, or in hiding, and sooner or later they would break cover, throw off their camouflage, expose themselves. They were simply waiting for an opportune moment to strike back… they had agitated long enough. Now they really were going to stir up trouble. They were no longer prepared to be used. They were not just implements with beautiful curves, they too had minds.

“I knew it would happen”, Geoff told himself as he rolled off the settee, “The government should do something. "Geoff What" continues in a popup window.

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