He searched for months to discover the lifeblood for his steadfast pen but no luck and it seemed his writing career was over because he just wasn’t happy without his precious pen. Then one day in a quaint village on Old Storm King he met an ancient woman, a matriarch of sorts and she said, “I’ve been dreaming about you and knew one day you would find me, so now, how can I help?”

“Well ma’am, my steadfast pen does not write,” and he handed her the scribbler.

The elder probed the instrument, “Ah... sable… black root from Old Storm King, now return in three days and your precious pen will write again… forever, but for a promise that you must keep!”

Three days later, he returned to Old Storm King Mountain and humbly asked, “What promise must I keep?”

She replied, “That you only write of cookies, cakes, pies and pastries and the colorful candied jewels and spices that pastry chefs attach.”

 

 

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Comment by Kristine_ES on August 21, 2012 at 1:38pm

no no no! he must write about goblins, demons, angels, the sea, the music of the spheres!

and no horoscopes, either!  oh poor writer.

Comment by Sandra Davies on August 19, 2012 at 9:33am

With imagination and a re-furbished pen, he can go far.

Comment by Toby Tucker Hecht on August 19, 2012 at 7:25am

Ha!!  Well, it's better than nothing.

Comment by Angela on August 18, 2012 at 7:17pm

Oh, no!  A food critic! ;)

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