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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Spring Cleaning


Ayshela

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Yawning sleepily, Alise wandered into the kitchen and started the coffee brewing. Looking at the clock she nodded to herself; it would be half an hour before anyone else awoke. She had plenty of time.

 

Stepping out into the dining room, she crossed to the bookshelves and removed a battered notebook from the top shelf. She listened closely to the sounds around her as she walked quietly to the table. Silence from upstairs, soft snoring from down the hall – good, everyone was still asleep. She seated herself at the table, removed the pen from the spiral binding, and froze listening as she heard movement from the bedroom. When the muffled snoring resumed, she uncapped the pen, opened the notebook and began to write.

 

Quickly, almost feverishly, she wrote line after line and page after page. The words flowed off the end of her pen as a jumble of thoughts whirled through her head, each trying to be the next to be written. Without rhyme or reason she wrote on, simple expression the only goal.

 

When the whirlwind of thoughts finally spun itself out, Alise stopped and gently capped her pen. “Just in time,” she murmured, looking toward the ceiling at the sound of an alarm clock being knocked to the floor. She closed the notebook and replaced the pen in the binding. Rising from her seat she crossed the floor to the bookshelves and carefully placed the notebook back in its space. An odd place to keep a private notebook, some might say, but really – what better place? Who would ever open and read a notebook entitled “Spring Cleaning”?

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