“No,” my pencil said. “No killing people.”
“Why?” I asked.
“You’ve had me kill so many! Stabbing, shooting people—you make me create people just to kill them!”
I shook my head. When I first pressed this pencil to paper, it was still shining. Now, the grip was worn, clip snapped, its blue plastic cracking.
“I’m worried about you,” pencil said. “You only create to dest—”
I flung the pencil across the room—a twang echoed from the metal trash bin. I pulled out a new pencil.
“What are you willing to do for me?” I asked it.
“Anything,” it grinned.
Lovely!!
Thank you so much!
Excellent story, Dawson.
I’m glad to hear you liked it!
That is great.
I can relate to this. I have my own grinning, willing pencil–willing to do my bidding anytime! Great story, Dawson.
It is certainly a nice thing to have – I have a growing collection of my favorite, most obedient pencils… I’m so happy you enjoyed the story.
I was having a bad morning, and thought about reading something to forget about it. You story cheered me up and now I am laughing. Honestly, this is the funniest story I read in a while. Loved it. I can’t stop laughing :)))))
I’m glad my story could make a difference for your morning. It thrills me beyond belief that my writing can let me brighten other people’s days. For that reason, I am loving this website. I’m so glad you liked this story!
Great!
Thanks!
Great story, really enjoyed it.
Thank you so much!
A good story to which I can relate. Sometimes I write long hand in pencil, and sharpening gives me pause as shavings and broken points land in the trash. .