The Museum Loan

Borrow something worthless from their house. The wooden spoon with the scorched edge. The promotional bottle opener. The coaster that never matched the other three. Something nobody would report missing. Don't announce it.

Keep it three months. It sits in a shoebox in your closet. That's the whole job — the waiting does the work.

Then it comes back. Insured mail, mounted in a museum-grade shadow box behind glass, with a provenance card in a serif face:

WOODEN SPOON American, c. 2016 Beech, scorched during a confident period On loan from a private collection

The private collection is your friend, cited by full legal name.

No cover letter. The placard is the cover letter. They now own an exhibit: it can't be used, it can't be thrown out, and it can't be explained to guests without a docent program. They'll ask why you're like this. Don't answer.

Expect two weeks of silence. Then a photo of the spoon, hung in their kitchen.