Personified Object
This pencil which is arrested between my index finger and thumb, twitches nervously when my thoughts are idle. It is most restless when I fidget, deep in the mental process of writing, as I am wont to do. A tap-tap-taping of its pink rubber head becomes involuntary, yet the writing implement seems pleased enough with this deliberation of ideas. Tapping, it tries in its own way to revive the muse lying in wait somewhere beyond the surface of the bare world. When Goldie finally makes an appearance, the pencil raises its head triumphantly. Once again I become eloquent and my loyal pencil, in a sudden burst of energy only matched by my own creativity, does its share in removing the starkness from the world.
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