By Anna Stigborg
Pencil
This is Pencil.
This is Pencil’s family.
On Saturdays Pencil goes to Auntie Sharp. He has to be on his very best behavior, she is very proper.
Lately Pencil has been feeling dull.
“Whats wrong?” asked Mama.
“I’m feeling pointless.”
“It’s just, Crayon gets to scribble on paper, I just write and write and write.”
“Yes, Crayon is very spiffy that way.”
“And paintbrush is soooo famous! He gets to be held in famous peoples hands.”
“Yes, you got a point there.”
“Sharpie’s permanent, I’m always erased.”
“You might be at your breaking point.”
If pencil just knew what his freinds were saying.
“Pencil’s so amazing he gets to be sharpened. I just run out of ink.”
“Pencil’s
so cool he gets to write stories, I just get paint everywhere.”
“Pencil’s super lucky he is soo popular and goes everywhere, I just stay in a stinky crayon box.”
“Pencil I wonder if you relise just how lucky you are?”
“You get to bring rubber with you. Crayon has to stick with other crayons.”
“You’re also really smart, most mathematicians use you and not marker.”
“And they wont know the joy of being sharpened everyday.”
Pencil never thought of it like that. He lay awake for a long time.
There was just one thing left to do.
“I cant sleep.”
“Well come on then.”
Sweet dreams
