Tasoula Michelakis’s Junk Drawer
- Scuffed up plastic sunglasses from a family trip to Wisconsin Dells
- A two dollar bill with a smiley face drawn on in sharpie
- A small cheap action figure from an old Burger King kids meal.
- A travel sized bottle of conditioner that was a prize from a carnival last summer.
- A spork.
- A box that used to have chalk in it but is now filled with tiny colorful nubs.
- A black GameCube controller.
- A now scentless air freshener.
- A hair brush for dogs.
- A dried up pink sharpie.
Tasoula was known for many things, but being neat was not one of them. Although she appreciated the way that a junk drawer can tell a strange, fragmented life story, opening it up was always a tedious task, and her heart beat fast every time as she anticipated how much of its contents might explode out. She jerked the drawer until it finally became unwedged from the GameCube controller she had hidden there years ago to keep her siblings from begging to be player two. As she studied its contents, searching for the Sharpie she knew was in there, she noticed a strangely contorted piece of bright yellow plastic. Suddenly waves of red overtook her vision as she recognized the villain: a spork. Why was there a spork in her drawer? She hated sporks. The prongs are too tiny to be an effective fork and too painful to be an effective. They’re just so dumb and pretentious. Sporks are not fun. They are not helpful. They are not contributing to society. She picked up the fork and threw it away. Such a vile utensil has no place even in a draw as junk-filled as Tasoula’s.