An autobiography of a pen

An autobiography of a pen

I was manufactured in a factory five years ago. After I was made, the “cross” was engraved on me. I was packed in a pretty box. Then I was put into a large box together with the other pens. We were happy together and spent a wonderful time talking to each other. I was transported to a large department store. I was taken out of my box and placed in the display tray along with other pens of different brands.

I was on display for only a short period. A grand old lady came to the store one day. She was looking for a gift. She bought me and presented me to a girl named Mary. Mary is a student and used me daily to do her school work. She took good care of me. She always wiped me clean after using me and placed me neatly in the box. She was very gentle with me and never handled me roughly. I admired my mistress and served her well.

My happiness did not last long. One day her grandmother bought her another pen. She stopped using me, and put me in my box. I am now stored away in her drawer. I live in the dark corner of the drawer hoping that one day she might use me again.

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