Dangerous Compassions

pen mania

I went though this huge bin of pens and pencils.  There were some gluesticks too, some crayons, colored pencils, markers, highlighters, a razor thing, and an exactoknife.  Two dirty pennies.  Lint.

Someone must have donated this bin many years ago.  All the pens were dry except two.  And those two were skippy.

I gathered about 25 dry pens that I thought could take a refill.  The retractable pens. 

And yesterday we went to the office supply store.  I searched for refills among all the pens.  There were none.  I was like, well, I guess this is old fashioned.  I guess I have to look online.

Then Ming showed me the refills.  They were behind me in a aisle on small spinny racks.

I took apart the pens I thought most likely to have refills for sale.  I read the brand and other specifications.  Yes, there were refills.  But they were expensive.

Many years ago I was mildly obsessed with these retractable Parker pens.  I kept one in my pocket at all times.  When I quit smoking.  This was when I was around 24.

It was hard to tell how much the refills really cost because the refill racks were messy.  I didn’t trust the right thing was under the right price.

But in the end I bought four refills.  I took a picture this morning after I fixed them.  I gave Ming the one with print because it’s Union Pacific and he likes trains.

It feels like a good deed, to keep a pen out of the landfill, but maybe it’s just nostalgia.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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