My Story Spot

A blue pen was lying on a desk. It was as small as a pencil and as fat as a marker. It had written many words, (5,000 to be exact ~but who’s counting?). Something  picked up the pen, and began to write on the paper. The pen loved to dance so it is obvious he danced as he painted words. He danced slow when the words where  sad, and danced fast when the words where happy. He could tell the emotions through the writers grip on him.

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He had never seen anything the words described, but he dreamed of one day seeing those things. He could feel  the thing that was holding him  shake  and slap him down on the wooden desk,  and  the pen pitied  it.  After a moment the pen was up and dancing again, happy as ever.  The word he was making were describing  a “sunset” which sounded lovely to the pen.  He wished he could witness a ‘sunset” but knew he was to be on the desk forever and never going places. He was dancing for what seemed like hours, and when the room became dark, the pen was put down and it became a pen lying on a desk all over again until the next time he was to paint the amazing words.