Pencil found it very strange for Pen to have been made so popular. He could not believe that an advent so lacking in exclusivity and originality could best him in the world of study. It was true, Pencil thought, that Pen did have many qualities that he himself did not possess. One of the most obvious ones was that Pen would last forever if the owner wished it to. Pen’s blood would keep flowing for a worthy man, one who knew his value and who would keep getting Pen new, lovely bottles and tubes of ink. At this notion Pencil sputtered and a bit of led within cracked due to pain. Why, Pencil would chance being sharpened to nothingness if the owner so wished! Of course he was superior to Pen. Pen knew nothing of supporting his fellows to a probable employment, whereas Pencil was sacrifice in its truest sense. He would lay his life down willingly knowing he will be replaced by a fellow, a peer, a Led-man very much like himself.
Not to mention the pure fact that his core, made of led, was much stronger than of mere ink which was more or less water, looking for an excuse to spill forth, not the substance of preference of a man who possessed some worth and dignity.
Strengthening up his led within, feeling quite cozy in the fashionable, colorfully striped and stylish wooden jacket, Pencil proudly lay next to Pen in the stationary store hoping to get picked up by a man of intelligence (so his use would not be in vain), much like himself.
~Tring, tring~ sang the shop door upon being opened by a man of average-to-short height, and silvery hair.
Eagerly Pencil waited, looking dapper having been freshly sharpened next to Pen who lay asleep. “Self-assured fool”, thought Pencil, “he thinks just because he is made of ink he will surely be picked up soon enough”. Although he felt quite sure today was his lucky day, he still threw Pen a skeptical glance or two, wondering if Pen was actually more deserving. Drowning in doubt, Pencil decided that fate would be a good chooser, and shut his eyes in trust and hope.
“Hello”, said the shop keeper, a jolly good man, “may I be of any assistance, good sir?”
“Oh, hello! No, thank you, Jim, just here to pick up some supplies”, smiling, the man walked towards the Ink and Led section.
Walking over to the man’s side, the shopkeeper decided to aid him as was his job, “look here, sir, our freshly shipped, Italian fountain pens made of sterling silver, sir! They say if you keep its liquid done up it will serve for your grandchildren, sir!”, snickering, commented the man who was unaware of the hurt pride of Pencil who found the favoritism quite unfair.
“Oh, my! You think so? Well, umm… Actually, I came here for one of the Led-men. You see, as a physicist i need something that can adjust to my demands, such as being erased, which is a wonderful quality of the Led-men to whom I keep returning to”.
“Very well, sir, pick out whichever you prefer from our fine collection!”, replied Jim.
And just like that, Pencil felt warmth on his jacket’s surface. He opened his eyes to see what his mind already knew but would not accept. Good Lord, the physicist had chosen him!
Pencil beamed, and straightened up his led awaiting to be slipped into the plastic bags he had seen his friends exiting the shop in. But wait, the physicist refused the plastic bag, and instead slid Pencil right into the breast pocket of his tweed jacket!
Holy crumpets and tea!
“What is your name, good sir, I’m afraid it will be necessary before I check your purchase out”, said Jim.
“It is Albert Einstein, Jim, with an ‘E’, that is. Good day!”, said the physicist.
Pencil was proud to be used for the physicist’s theory of relativity. Relativity, indeed!