InkJoy, I've had you for months. I've used you for corrections and memo's, took down messages with your blood. I'll never forget the moment we met. It was perfect.
The Staples man delivered our parcel which I signed for, not even knowing you would be included as a random free gift/sample. How could I have known that a simple bazillion dollar order of ink cartridges would include your delectable body? But, oh! There you were, nestled soundly in your own little packet, clicky black body snuggled gently among bigger ink carriers. I was in immediate love.
The moment you fell into my hand I knew we were destined for greatness. How could it be anything else? Your grip was too comfortable for words. Your style was suitably classy. Oh, I knew we were to be the best of friends.
And how could I live through the first moment your ink touched smooth white? You rolled so smooth, your ink so black and thick. Yes, you were the yin to my yang. And what's this? No smearing! Unheard of for a lefty. InkJoy, I vow you completed me.
But what is to be now? How can I simply go for a plan old blue Bic or Zebra in purple? How can I replace you? How will it be these next few days.
InkJoy, I know not where you have gone or who has stolen you from my office, but please do not be afraid. I know no one will have quite the gentle touch as me nor the inherent handwriting skill. Please know I will never forget you. You were truly my best work surprise, truly the best of penmanship companions.
Rest in piece, InkJoy/Rest in the hands of the jealous unholy motherfucker that ruined my day.
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