Hey! Here is a second short fiction piece I thought I would share! This started out as an idea I had when I was a little girl. I put it in pencil in a notebook that I carried around with me everywhere until I spilled butter all over it and it was ruined. It started out as letters from each of the different, creative names I came up with and evolved into more of a plot. Even as a young child (8 or 9) I made it where the mechanical pencils thought they were better than the wooden ones (showing how observant kids are of the messed up shit in the world). I hope you enjoy it! Part 2 will come out tomorrow!
Life of a Pencil: Part 1
The pencils gathered in front of the president pencil, waiting for him to begin his speech. They all waited expectantly for the speech for Pencil Appreciation Day, the day where pencils show support for others going through a hard time.
This time was different though. They were filming it, to go on to the human’s T.V.’ s by “Accident”. The pencils stood ready and waiting for the cue.
Just as the cameras started filming the president came out from the curtain.
“Hello, pencilfolk and humans. Today is Pencil Appreciation Day, and we are all here to tell you humans what we want from you, with worst-case scenarios and best-case scenarios. First off we want to appreciate the people who made us come to life! The factories with wood chips, glue, graphite, and rubber, we thank you. Then to the people that buy us, the people that put us into the metal cart in our cardboard boxes. And finally the people that use us. Thank you from me, the president of pencilfolk, Gary Graphite.
“Now we have a tape, from the kind pencilfolk, of worst case scenarios. Roll Tape!”
The pencils looked on in awe at the sudden flash of color, on the huge wall of white, that dry erase markers sometimes wrote on in this classroom. They held their breath, and then the image spoke, and they all breathed a sigh of relief, that they didn’t have to edit the tape for the humans.
A pencil of short height came on screen, and started speaking.
“Hello, my name is Lucy Lead, and I’ve been asked to give my life story. Well, I was bought and I was brought home to a house with young children, and was often used right after touching a dirty diaper. Then I was used very often, feeling dirty, but never washed. This is abuse!
“Other times, when the kids grew older, they started picking their noses with me! That is both poop and booger germs at once! I want all pencils to know that we don’t have to be treated that way. Let’s REVOLT!”
The screen went blank for five seconds before another pencil went on. This time it was mechanical.
“Hello, my name is Mario Lápiz, and I want to tell of my hard life. I work in a homeless shelter, and I am only fed lead 350 times a day. I need to be fed at least 600, so please rescue me! They have also started using those measly wooden pencils, the ones that are inferior because they can’t work as long as us mechanicals. Just because I cost a bit more than those sad things do, I will cost less in the long run. Please save me!” The screen cut out.
All of the wooden pencils were lost in silence. The ignorance of the things he had said offended them very much. Gary Graphite stepped back up to the stand.
“Those, pencilfolk, were the words of a mechanical pencil and his ignorance. Believe me when I say that we are trying as hard as we can to eradicate this kind of behavior and ignorance in the pencilfolk community. Now we are going to hear from a guest speaker, named Ellie Eraser. Please welcome Ms. Eraser.” He stepped down, with applause erupting over the classroom.