9/16-The Spoon's Perspective

It's the day we, the dishes and silverware, all mourn about. The day I and my fellow comrades are thrown into a machine and drowned several times. I still remember my first time going through this horrifying process. I was left, with a few others, in a sort of pit with a giant hole in the middle and a metal tentacle hanging over us, spraying us down with cold dreadful water. I was left in the pits with the other random dishes and silverware for a few weeks. Then, we all were grabbed and thrown into the machine to wait for the disaster to strike us. It finally happened with a surprise. The machine's door was closed and the room rapidly filled up with soapy waters. "I'm going to drown. Is this really how I'm going to die?" I thought to myself. Then I realized, I don't have lungs. After the machine emptied out of water, we were handled with these massive alien like hands once again, and put into separate rooms. I was never to see any of the other dishes. You would think the aliens that use us already drenched us with enough water, but they pick us up and shovel us into these retched piles of goop. Finally, putting us in their slobbery mouths, and throwing us back into the pits. Starting the process all over again.