The Lone Chopstick

Usually, chopsticks work in pairs: side-by-side, held in one hand, and pressed together by positioned fingers. They seem to be co-dependent - afraid to be on their own. Always with at least one other, whether in use, in the drawer, or in the drain tray.

But every morning, when I slowly straggle out of bed and crawl into the kitchen, I see one lone chopstick sitting on the counter patiently waiting to be cleansed. One brave chopstick adventures forth everyday alone, leaving his friends behind in the drawer. They eagerly wait for his return, when he will regale them with stories of his journey.

It is not the same chopstick every morning, however, that ventures forth to new discoveries. Oh no. Sometimes he is one of the wooden crowd - some days she is from the red plastic group. And every morning when I see this lone chopstick, I stop to ponder what mischief she created alone, early before I rose under my covers.