“啧，叉子。塑料的，弯了。”
“看见没？就你手里的那根。尖头上还沾着点昨天的油，还是上个小时的盐？管它呢？反正不是滋味。 ”
“对，是燃料。捅，塞，嚼，咽。喉咙像个生锈的传送带，嘎吱嘎吱地往下运。还好嚼了几下，不然多半卡住。 ”
- 运什么呢？
“运快点，为了那些“还没错过”的玩意儿？屏幕亮着，颜色糊成一团浆。眼珠子？早磨成玻璃珠了，只会跟着那团浆……滚？左一下。右一下。传送带要停了吗，快，再快点。”
- 急什么？
“好问题。叉子后面有狗撵着？还是…… “时间”这玩意儿，漏了？像你沿着塑料叉流下来的食物残渣？黏糊糊的，沿着手腕往下爬，爬的你心慌，基因中对流血的恐惧，你觉得下一秒你就要炸了，于是更快地捅。塞。嚼。咽。叉子弯的更厉害了，弯曲处开始泛出老化的白像张拉满的弓。”
“累？喉咙难受？浓盐突然让人想呕？那就…咳两声？ 对，用力点。把卡在嗓子里的油盐混合物，微塑料颗粒……还有信息碎片？给呕出来，呕出来看看。是什么宝贝值得经过这传送带和塑料叉子？”
“看看叉子尖端，结晶的盐粒，亮晶晶的油光，一小撮，一小撮，一小撮。和屏幕上闪过的光有什么区别？”
- 有什么区别？
“无非是有的进了胃，有的……糊了眼。都靠一个弯着的塑料叉子往看不见底的窟窿里填。”
- 没区别。
“那可不一样了，你问我燃料和材料的区别是什么？去过工厂的孩子都知道：燃料烧着材料。如果加工那堆廉价玩意不需要用燃料的话，那喉咙就可以封住了，对，少个窟窿”
- 哪来的盐粒？
“你说塑料叉子上那些吗？还能哪来？海水蒸发结晶，或者井里挖出来的，反正不是钠在氯气中燃烧形成的。它在一些别的传送带上，加到这摊燃料中，然后再运送到你的面前。”
“继续捅。塞。嚼。咽。 不适驱使着你尽快结束后用水清洗掉手上黏糊糊的废液。”
“对…捅。塞。嚼。咽。咔。一声脆响让你毛骨悚然，叉子断了，还好不是你的脊柱，对，塑料叉子断裂了，对于它的造价来说再合理不过了”
“很合理，像所有吃饭的人一样，你又拿了一把叉子，一样的包装，一样的廉价，塑料也是一样的冷，它很快也会一样地断掉”
“嗝～”
FromOceans 2025.07.15
显然我并没有这个能力，所以英文版由deepseek辅助翻译，非常牛！
P/L/A/S/T/I/C/ F/O/R/K/
"Tsk. Fork. Plastic. Bent."
"See? That one in your hand. Tip glistening with yesterday’s grease? Or last hour’s salt? Whatever. Tastes like nothing good."
"Yeah. Fuel. Poke. Stuff. Chew. Swallow. Throat’s a rusty conveyor belt, grinding its way down. Chew. Or it’ll jam."
Hauling what?
"Haul faster! For that ‘Haven’t-Missed-It-Yet’ crap? Screen’s lit, colors smeared into sludge. Eyeballs? Ground down to glass beads ages ago. Just rolling… left… right… following the sludge. Belt stopping? Faster!"
Why the rush?
"Good question. Dogs chasing the fork? Or… ‘Time’ leaking? Like the gunk sliding off the plastic tines? Slick. Slimy. Crawling down your wrist. Crawling into that primal fear of bleeding out under your cheap watch-face. Feel it? Gonna blow? So poke faster. Stuff. Chew. Swallow. Fork bends harder, white stress marks blooming at the curve. Like a bow drawn taut."
"Tired? Throat raw? Salt surge making you gag? So… cough? Yeah. Harder. Hack up that sludge stuck in your pipes – grease-salt slurry, microplastic grit… info-shrapnel? Hack it up. See what precious cargo needed this shitty conveyor belt and plastic fork?"
"Look at the fork’s tip. Salt crystals. Grease sheen. Little pile. Little pile. Little pile. What’s the diff from the light-junk flashing on-screen?"
What’s the diff?
"Some hits the gut. Fuel. Some gums up the eyes. Material. Same bent plastic fork. Shoveling into the same bottomless hole."
No diff.
"Wrong! Fuel burns Material! Kid who’s seen a factory knows that. If processing that cheap crap didn’t need fuel? Seal the throat shut. Yeah. Plug the hole."
Where’s the salt from?
"That salt? Where else? Ocean vats. Mine shafts. Definitely not sodium burning in chlorine gas. Rode other conveyor belts. Got dumped into this fuel-slurry. Landed here. On your fork."
"Keep poking. Stuffing. Chewing. Swallowing. The discomfort drives you. Finish it. Wash the sticky waste-film off your hands later."
"Yeah… Poke. Stuff. Chew. Swallow. Crack. Sound jolts your nerves. Fork snapped. Not your spine, thank god. Yeah. Plastic fork failure. For its price? Quite reasonable."
"Perfectly reasonable. Like everyone eating, you grab another. Same wrapper. Same cheap crap. Plastic just as cold. It’ll snap the same way soon enough."
"Burp—"