I was strolling hither and tither on a white road and was wondering why. Then, abruptly I felt a drop of the rain on my left knuckle and thought of taking another look as it was the summer solstice. Then, I collapsed on to the white floor and got to see my master’s eyes in a dribble of tears, and my heart sank at the sight of her. I saw the lamentation written all over her face and it was unendurable.
She’s known to me since she was an eight year lad and I had been her best friend whenever she scrawled her diary. When I take a retrospect of our first encounter, it reminds me of the grubby stationery store where she first bought me. I still remember the way of how she had handled me with kid gloves and I was impressed. For a pen to be treated the way she treated me was unanticipated.
One day I made an attempt to describe her and I found myself running out of all the positive adjectives. I am unsure of the date when she first made use of me but am certain that she 1st recorded her dad’s appraisal of her approvable talents. Our relationship grew in manifold strongness and in less than 51/2 days, I came to know her inside-out. Coming to her outward appearance, I can say she is a girl with a silky blonde hair fit neatly into stunning chignon. Her deep-set chocolate brown eyes looked at me as if I were a treasure. Dimples are pressed under her high cheek bones. She has a Grecian nose and her soft hands with long fingers terminated in painted, polished nails grasped me with utmost care.
It was the first time she had seen him and to my surprise she fell for him at the very instance of his sight. Then, she unknowingly lost her grip on me and dropped me on to the floor. I was drastically injured and thought that my days were then numbered. But, to my disbelief she restored me with all sort of adhesives which were then handy.
I cherish her more than anyone else. Let me not digress from the main topic of why she was crying. I acknowledge the reason to be your master. Though, your master may be an oily mannered literate but yet he’s flesh and blood, and it’s quite substantial to have some minor misapprehensions. The day she wept was the day they first had a row. Everyone visualized that their relation had fallen on stony ground but it seemed to me that there was still hope and I was right and that’s probably the reason why we are here, in the same penholder having a tête-à-tête, while our master’s are there, sitting in their cozy cushion in the living room, sharing the cup of their favourite refreshment.