grb19meb avatar

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I had a pen. It inspired me to write stories, beautiful stories in italic handwriting.
They flowed from my pen as the ink flowed.
Stories of people, stories of imagination, beauty, nature and the countryside.
I lost the pen.
Stories dried up.
Who wrote the stories, the pen? me?
I looked at people but no inspiration.
I walked in the countryside and was not motivated.
I examined my inner thoughts and could not be aroused.

I bought a new pen.
It writes in italic too.
I filled the pen with ink.
It flooded the paper!

A blot on the landscape,

2 comments add one below

  • avatar

    Neville Hunt over 3 years ago

    A super story Marion. Took me by surprise at the end too. The pen’s certainly working OK now!

  • avatar

    Christopher almost 3 years ago

    I think we can all relate to this drabble. Wonderful.

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