The Big Spoon

I saw a giant spoon. It was fifty feet tall and walked like a man. It had arms and legs, which were also spoons, but of smaller sizes, It had fingers and toes, the toes digging small clumps of dirt from the ground as it walked along the dirt road. I was hiding behind the trees, and I could see the trees, and myself, reflected off its shiny steel surface. I followed it along the road until it came to a river. A rainbow opened up across the river, and the river became a lake. The water was white, the colour of milk. The water was milk. The spoon dived in head first. He came up, walking out of the lake, hunched over, his head tipped backwards, and his face full of cereal. Large peices of cereal. Mixed in with seashells and driftwood. He saw me out of the corner of his eye. Or it would have been the corner of his eye, had he any eyes. As it was, he saw me, somehow, and turned towards me.

"It's time for breakfast," he said.