by Flying Haddock
A Pen Completes Its Work
Two incomplete sets of ﬆories were left on a wobbly desk to marinate. One was called, “Happy Tales,” the other, “Somber Fables.”
The pen that had written both was exhauﬆed on its side. Cold plastic pressing againﬆ its near empty cartridge, the pen could do little about the desk mocking the ﬆories as, “Incomplete births.”
Feeling powerless to sow the cursed schism between happy and somber, the pen was anxious for the future of the two accounts.
Ink-ﬆained ﬁngers ﬆacked two piles of papers into one and placed them in a wooden box. Later, an ugly table cursing the pen that had bled to death on its surface was placed outside for trash.
Prose with Illustrations
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