Jenny Kaczorowski (CC / Flickr)

That time they took away my pen. It gives me a quiver of frustration every time I think of it. They would have to do it when I was assailed by thoughts I needed to write down before they passed through my mind like a shoal of fish, leaving nothing but a moment’s turbulence.

I asked for the pen back and they gave it to me, but the sound of my voice purged my mind. I hovered the pen over the blank paper, longing for what had slipped my grasp.

Tagged with:
Posted in Saturday Hooptedoodle

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Follow Cockburn's Eclectics on

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 444 other followers

Alan Turing's Desk

Leading Crimewatch

Limestone Griffin

Guarding the Spooks

Bletchley Park Library

Most Secret Sources

Bakelite Days

Corvid Homebuilder

Torch Veteran


More Photos
%d bloggers like this: