What can YOU say in six sentences?
One day his pen ran out of ink and he couldn’t find a refill, a special blend of sable. The scribbler was old-fangled and that sort wasn’t made anymore, yet he had faith he would get it writing again. Meanwhile, he unlocked his yellow pencil, the one with the erasure on top from his secret hideaway. And the pencil danced for three days, but that too would soon lose its spark. That poor pencil was left with only a few words… with its pointy point and red erasure hugging the precious wood that cradled the point. But it kept writing… and dancing until…