The Aura of the Pen, by Jeff Henry

     I sink into the soft microfiber of my couch as my body descends into my spot for ideal writing.  It’s in the corner of my sectional, the most comfortable spot.  As I taste the cold Irish stout my eyes search for my paper, then my pen.  I sit for a moment as the Irish music starts to play, enjoying the aura.  I sip the stout again as my fingers encircle my pen. The world around me disappears as my pen begins to tattoo the sheet below it.  The ink seems to flow into the sheet as if to almost mimic the violin playing.  There’s no stopping now as the unison of pen to paper is completely harmonized.  The ink is coming out at an almost alarming speed as pages become art without a though to modification.  The concentration is intense as my conclusion shows itself.  As the last strikes of the pen hit the page my world solidifies itself again as I revel in the artwork in front of me.  It’s perfect and I can’t wait to show it off.  I also cannot wait until the next time that I may have the chance to repeat this experience.

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