RED PEN

Once upon a time, in a bustling stationery store, there lived a little red pen named Ruby. Ruby was no ordinary pen; she was vibrant, full of life, and had a flair for storytelling. Her ink flowed smoothly, leaving behind a trail of crimson tales on paper.

Ruby’s days were spent nestled among other pens, waiting for someone to pick her up. She longed for adventure, to be part of something greater than just jotting down grocery lists or scribbling phone numbers. But day after day, she remained untouched, her cap firmly in place.

One sunny morning, a young girl named Maya entered the store. Her eyes sparkled as she scanned the shelves, searching for the perfect pen. Ruby sensed an opportunity and wiggled her cap ever so slightly. Maya’s gaze fell upon Ruby, and their eyes met. It was as if the universe conspired to bring them together.

Maya picked up Ruby, feeling the smooth plastic against her fingertips. She twirled Ruby between her fingers, testing her weight. Ruby’s heart raced; this was her chance! Maya bought Ruby, and they embarked on a new chapter together.

From that day on, Ruby’s life changed. She traveled in Maya’s backpack, witnessing the world outside the store. She wrote love letters, penned poems, and even doodled on the margins of textbooks during boring lectures. Ruby reveled in the magic of storytelling, her ink dancing across the pages.

But life wasn’t all rainbows and unicorns. Ruby faced challenges too. She accidentally rolled off Maya’s desk, leaving a tiny scratch on her barrel. Maya forgave her, saying, “It’s your battle scar, Ruby. Every pen has a story.”

Ruby’s favorite moments were late nights when Maya poured her heart out onto paper. Ruby listened, absorbing every word—the joy, the pain, the dreams. She became a silent confidante, a keeper of secrets.

One day, Maya wrote a letter to her grandmother. It was heartfelt, filled with memories and gratitude. Ruby’s ink flowed freely, capturing the essence of Maya’s emotions. When Maya sealed the envelope, she whispered, “Thank you, Ruby.”

As the years passed, Ruby’s color faded, but her spirit remained strong. She had written countless stories, each one etched into her being. Maya graduated, and Ruby accompanied her to job interviews, signing contracts and celebrating promotions.

One rainy afternoon, Maya sat by the window, staring at the droplets sliding down the glass. Ruby sensed her melancholy and whispered, “Write it down, Maya. Let the rain wash away your sorrows.” And so, Maya poured her heart out, tears blending with Ruby’s ink.

Ruby knew her time was near. She had fulfilled her purpose—a thousand stories told, a thousand memories preserved. As she lay in Maya’s hand, her ink fading, she whispered, “Thank you for the adventure, Maya.”

Maya smiled, gently placing Ruby back in the drawer. “Goodbye, my faithful pen,” she whispered.

And so, Ruby closed her eyes, content in knowing that her red ink would forever be part of Maya’s story—a silent witness to love, loss, and life itself.

And that, my friend, is the tale of Ruby, the little red pen.