"If only I knew that would happen to me..."
That was what she said that caught my attention. Let me recap a bit so you understand my story perfectly...
I was in my final year in school. Four solid years was slowly crawling to an end, and my book-independence day steadily approached. I am the type of guy who followed the "Jack rule". Confused? Don't be, I work hard, but I play harder. One game however had eluded me since my freshman days. No scratch that, maybe that isn't so accurate, not one game, more like one player; Beatrice.
I met her back in my 100 level days, we were course mates. Chubby faced, petite, smiling beauty. She was my perfect score, sorry, my perfect match. Forgive my figure of speech. Beatrice however, was not into games, she was not into anything Infact, inasmuch as it wasn't book related. I asked her on a date, surprised her with gifts, made public shows of affection towards her, all the works, nothing. The only thing I got as a response was a call to attend an impromptu lecture so that I don't fail a course. Yeah, I was that important in her life, we had an enviable relationship; a scholarship...😒
Anyways, fast forward four years later and Beatrice and I are on the verge of a wonderfully blissful new relationship. Awesome right? Yeah, awesome. Wait, I know what you're thinking, a new scholarship perhaps for postgrad? Naaah, I'm talking real life rub my back, I rub your back relationship. If you still don't understand, maybe you need a scholarship yourself...
Back to my story...
So I sat Beatrice down last night and I told her "I have a pen, a pen I can't seem to use."
She looked at me confused and before she spoilt my moment, I continued. "For four long years I have kept this pen intact, trying without success to make use of it." Her confused expression remained on her face. I fired on...
"Society asks people like me to protect this pen, and to ensure the future do not hold us to ransom for misuse of it. However, without an initial use, there will be no future to debate at all about the use or misuse of any stationery, not least a pen of this magnitude."
Now she was a little bit perplexed, going by the expression on her face. "Kay," she said...
Yeah, that's my name, nice of you to ask. Now back to Beatrice... "please, I do not understand. What sort of pen are you talking about?"
My moment afterall, I thought in my head. "It's a dark, strong, shape-changing pen, with silk strands of hair at the base, and a thick, sticky white ink." "A pen of such magnitude, that which puts down the message sent to those unborn, and brings forth the future." Realization slowly begins to dawn on her face, dare me to stop now... "A pen this important, having stayed inert so long can cause serious tremors when eventually put to use. One solution remains open though..."
Two days later...
So Beatrice had been talking non-stop for what seemed like the best part of an hour. While I didn't really not listen, I didn't particularly listen as well. I was a good actor, and the rule of the game here was nod and smile. I had been playing perfectly until I heard that comment, "If only I knew that would happen to me..." "What?" I asked... "Those serious tremors you talked about" she replied, with the recently discovered mischevious expression on her face. I smiled, I needn't ask about all what she had been saying, I knew (if you ask me, I ain't telling ya even). I smiled again and I recalled how it began two days ago. All I had said was, "Can you find a suitable cover for my pen?"
Image credit: gratuity tucci® (google images)
