May 15, 2010

Sometimes I wonder about where my magic pen went. It had colorful dots and moved freely across the paper, each word spectacular. I've since misplaced it, although it once came up missing, or swiped. Terrible incident at school, one day it was beside me, and then gone. I tried not to become accusatory, but I knew of a fellow student who was a self-professed klepto. I immediately wanted to shake him down, but didn't. Instead I inquired of the professor whether or not my magic pen had been turned int. He said, "Nope." And then I dropped the word that I felt that perhaps it had been stolen. "Stolen!" he said. "Not in my class. This isn't what the class is about." Well, okay. Maybe I misspoke, but the next day my pen miraculously appeared on the arm of a chair. Prof said that I probably left it there myself. But I knew better. I searched that chair when magic pen disappeared. Who was he kidding? Yes. Fact that my one eye is blind, I can see clearly with the other. Truth in that. Professor maybe was the swiper. Maybe he needed my pen's mojo. That's cool. But where is that magic pen now? I need the streamline feel of its shaft and smooth sail of its ink. For a few strokes of magic.