My wife and I made the 32-hour drive to surprise my parents years back in 2018. I hadn't been home to visit for quite some time after having moved out of country. While there, I came across a particular fork that I realized I had favored my entire life and had all but forgotten about after moving away. It was completely unlike the other (albeit somewhat mismatched) forks in their collection. It featured four slightly shorter, slightly sharper tines, seperated in the center by a wider, deeper gap than found between the rest of them, and with fancier metalwork along the handle. As I held that trusty piece in my hand, I felt as though I had been reunited with something I never realized I had lost. It was like having a mannerism pointed out that you didn't realize you've been doing, but have grown hyper-aware of it now. This was my fork. This was an extension of myself practically worthy of a name.

So I took it. Unapologetically. I simply informed my parents that I had found my fork, and then I took it. I carried it 1,794 mi (2,410 km) back to where she belonged, and I've used that fork nearly every evening of my life ever since, for the past 6 or 7 years.

This is her here. Look upon her gently. See how she glints in the light.. They say that the elves have a special word for her, though I've never heard it spoken.. But I know how it sounds in my heart.