He wrote three short stories and was proud of that and planned his fourth, but soon realized he was the tool and his pen did all the work. He could wake at midnight, dazed and out of order and his pen would write the best of tales, so he decided to get a good night’s sleep and become the master of his words but always the pen took over. He locked the pen in a secret place and bought a pencil, a yellow one with an eraser on top, yet the pencil took over and shortly, his story appeared in all the local newspapers. He didn’t know what to do and wanted control.

It took years to figure and one day he realized he was left handed but wrote with his right, so he unlocked his pen and began writing with his left and finally became master of his words, although when wary, he switches to his right… that steadfast pen. And the pencil... well, it’s locked away in a secret place.

 

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Comment by Angela on August 16, 2012 at 7:20pm

I could see the words flowing.  Fun tale, Stephen.

Comment by Stephen Torelli on August 16, 2012 at 5:03pm

No, not mean, forthright and from the Hudson Valley.

Comment by Kristine_ES on August 15, 2012 at 2:04pm

FABULOUS TALE!  (can we read the stories he wrote now?) man, am i mean or what?  ;) 

Comment by Judy Thompson on August 13, 2012 at 7:49pm

i love this. give that muse what it wants and it will roll over to have its tummy scratched, every time.

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