18 January 2014

First

A new bloggy blog!  I've written so many and deleted them all one by one as I feared I revealed to much of myself.  This particular site will be mainly a home for short stories and your critique of them as you see fit. Holding down a full time job with an abundance of hours can keep me from writing, but only when I let it. Hopefully this gives me some drive to keep on top of the little stories and novels always rolling through my head.


This first one is one of my favorites, written for my writer's group with the subject of Inanimate Objects.  I have always had a suspicion that inanimate objects are secretly having an entire life when I am not paying attention ala Toy Story I suppose.  Why is the box of crackers slightly to the left of where I left it?  How does the lipstick magically get in my pocket, I swear I never moved it there.

The new guy
“I’ll take three, no four.“ the woman said. “ Send them to my office along with the paperwork and I’ll take care of the red tape.  What? Yeah, okay…just get it done. Thanks Jerry.”
The woman got off the phone and proceeded to pick up Pencil and write a series of notes. The Pencil got excited and flushed, swishing up and down quickly with her curly script.  He never paid attention to the words; they didn’t really matter to him. He was always too caught up in the dizzying ups and downs and curl-arounds, the way the woman made her tiny little dots so precisely and then slashed the tops of her t’s with flair, it was breathtaking.
The woman stopped to take a drink of water and set down Pencil, who was a ecstatic from 5 minutes straight of use, that didn’t usually happen. Usually a note here and there was it, but apparently this had been a long phone call and she had saved her note taking till the end.  The pencil lay there for a while, catching his breath and letting the lead in him calm down from the vibration of writing. Then the woman picked him up again and swiftly stuck him in the electric sharpener. It was a strange feeling, part of him being whisked briskly away, but he came out with such a nice shiny point. Then she put him back in the blue pottery cup. She always sharpened at the end of each use and she never over sharpened, she was good like that.
He sighed contentedly.
“Show off,” came the inevitable mutter next to him.
Pencil felt irritation crawling up his lead. “You needn’t be so cranky about it. I don’t choose how long her notes are or who she uses to take them.” Although, she likes me best, he thought privately.
“Maybe not, but you lean there all sighing and important like you wrote the Declaration of Independence“, Pen complained. “Which I would remind you, was done in ink, not lead, which would fade, as all your words do in time. She just took some notes about inventory coming in next week.”
“I don’t pay attention to the words, Pen. My job is to serve for her writing pleasure, whatever it might be.”
“I hope she sharpens you to a stub, Stumpy!” Pen retorted. She wasn’t in a good mood.
“You’re just jealous.” Pencil said firmly. “You are just necessary for signatures, but she likes MY eraser.”
Pen looked at him with pure hatred and then looked away pointedly towards the office door peering out.  She lived in fear of someone coming in to borrow her ever since she had spent a week down the hall in some guy’s office that hadn’t even used her. He had used his stupid computer for everything!  She was really a girly girl Pen, hot pink with little sparkles.  Some did not take her seriously, but she was actually a top of the line Remier 207. Refillable even.  She had thought she would never been returned till he seemed to notice her one day and use her as an excuse to return her to the woman and ask her out for coffee. Pen had laughed joyously till her ink pooled in her tip when the woman had turned him down. Served him right.
Pencil was trying hard to retain the post-use glorified feeling he got from a good long twirl across the paper but Pen could be so mean about not being used, and she hadn’t been used in a few days. Her ink tip no doubt was feeling a tad bit dried. Pencil decided to ignore Pen. Usually they argued for hours every day and into the night, so he was trying this new tactic. He would give her the silent treatment and see how that stuck up writing utensil liked it.
He felt good today after that prolonged use. He loved the way the woman wrote, so decisively, letting her thoughts just flow on to paper. It was beautiful. Maybe a little too decisive sometimes because she had made liberal use of his eraser, but she had just put a new smart blue one on him and he preened a little, catching his reflection in the make-up mirror on the corner of the desk.
“Looking goooood, Pencil!” He whispered, forgetting he wasn’t going to say anything in Pen’s hearing.
“Oh my GOD, do you ever shut up?” Pen huffed at him.
Pencil fell silent but continued to look at his nice new eraser, he wished the mirror was a little closer to the cup so he could see better.
The woman left for the day, and the writing implements studiously ignored each other all night.

The next day the woman came in as usual and set her steaming coffee cup a little closer than usual to the pottery cup. Pencil worried his wood would get damp and he tried to move slightly away. Pen tried to move a little closer to the steam to get her unused tip ink moving. She breathed in the steam. It improved her mood immediately and she used it to poke at Pencil a bit.
“What’s the matter Pencil?  Wood getting a little too damp? Lead feeling a bit loose? Tough break for you!” she teased unkindly.
“What is wrong with you?” Pen cried, “Always ragging on me, always this thing with your…your Pencil Envy!!”
“Pencil Envy!” she said incredulously,  “Oh please, you’re the one who…”
“Hi there!” a bright happy voice piped in.
Both Pen and Pencil were caught off guard, in their argument, a new writing implement had apparently been pulled out of the woman’s purse and placed near her notebook.
“Who are you?” Pen asked, trying to get a better look.
The new arrival was..well what was it? He looked like a Pen, he was a dark shiny green metal, but he appeared to have an eraser as well.
“I don’t mean to interrupt you, he continued in his high gleeful tone, “but I just wanted to say Hello since it looks like I’ll be here for awhile, I’m Hybrid 3000, a new…”
The voice trailed off, the woman had a visitor in her office and she picked up the new implement to take notes.  Pencil and Pen both looked eagerly to see what would happen, what was this Hybrid model anyway?
Pencil sighed in relief when he saw it was another ink pen. He had no chance of being replaced. Pen was filled with horror, not only was it ink but it was BLUE.  She herself had blue ink why on earth  would the woman use a new blue pen when Pen was here ready to be used? Was she being replaced? Was this the end of the line? Destination Drawer?
Then something happened.  The woman clicked the top of the utensil and the ink tip retracted, a pencil lead appeared, sharp and shiny ready for use, no sharpening needed. Pencil gasped and felt trembly.
“What. Is. That?” he whispered to Pen, terrified. “What is going on around here?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered back, dread running down her length.”
They watched, horrified, the new implement swirling around the page like he owned it.  She was making a list! And notes…two pages! The woman laughed at something office visitor said, and stopped writing. She leaned back in her chair, clicking the top of the strange hybrid.
“Oh, oh, oh, ohhhhhhhh!” The Hybrid’s moans of enjoyment with every thumb click, drifted towards the pottery cup and Pen and Pencil looked at each other with a mixture of distaste and worry.
The woman then started to write something at the corner of the page.
“What is that?’ Pen cried.  “Is that a doodle?!”
Pencil felt weak in the lead and had to lean against Pen for support.  Instead of moving off, like always, she supported his weight.  “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay” she whispered to him, watching with sinking ink as a small drawing of a puppy appeared on the paper.
Suddenly the woman checked her watch and stood up grabbing her notebook and with no hesitation,  her new Hybrid, it was going with her.
“Sorry we didn’t get time to talk you guys! I’m going to a meeting already! Isn’t that exciting?” He called in his excited irritating voice. Then he was whisked away while the others stared at him held in the woman’s hand.
“I can’t believe this,” Pencil started crying a little.
“Don’t! Pen cried. “You have to be strong! Your finish is going to flake if you do that!”
Pen thought and then said, “Look…I know we haven’t been, well, friends but we need to work together, we need to unite as writing utensils if we are going to beat this guy out. He can do what we both do, and…I think better. Did you notice he has a fine tip? I’m only medium.” She blushed hard.
“Yes, well he doesn’t even need to be sharpened, did you notice that?” Pencil sniffed trying not to cry. “Besides you have a very nice tip! I’ve always thought so!”
“Really?” Pen asked, “You mean that?”
“Well…Yes! And your ink is so…bold!”
“Thanks, Pencil. I like your new eraser too. Green suits you.” She said shyly.
Suddenly the two looked at each other and then away, bashful with their new confessions.
“I’ll be brave if you are, Pen!” Pencil said.
She looked at him, the light striking her metal tip attractively. Pencil had never noticed that before.
“You and me against this thing Pencil!”, she said.
He looked at her shiny tip for a moment more and then shored up, ready for action. “You are right Pen! Let’s call a meeting while that Hybrid thing is gone. Yell for Stapler, he totally owes me a favor.  And I think you have an in with the big binder clips? They can do some serious damage. Let me push you a little towards the coffee cup, we need that ink flowing”.