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Saturday, April 23, 2016

The One That Got Away

So it's late at night, I'm sitting on top of the washing machine, in full on writing zone, I set my pencil down to ruffle through some pages, I go to pick up my find out it has rolled away and fell behind the washing machine.
I don't remember what I did next. I think I asked myself if that really happened. I think I imagined the pencil actually in my hand. I think I blinked a few times, expecting the pencil to reappear where I left it. Then I think I started to cry.
I wouldn't have gotten this upset about any pencil. Because this wasn't any pencil; this was my favorite pencil. This pencil did everything I needed it to. And then it just abandoned me.
I think I sat there for a moment, motionless, pondering on why life hates me. I couldn't figure out why.

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