"An Adventure in Perspective"

The pen sat on the desk - it really had always dreamed of something better - something beyond The Great Hand. Something beyond the endless words written in sprawling script. It wanted to go places; do things, things that would make any pen's ink turn green with envy.

The little pen didn't want to amount to nothing, it wanted to write on foreign paper, scrawl in margins of classics - Hemmingway, Hugo, Bradbury. Maybe even create one of his own one day.

So with his mind having been made up the pen made its move. With infinite grace, agility and speed he rolled himself right off the table.

Now the whole world was open to him! The things he could do! The places he could go! The books he could write!

Then out of nowhere a huge and intricate pattern came out of the sky. He had heard some of his cousins describe this mystical pattern as the pattern of death, and now he remembered their stories of escape and evasion.

But as he watched the pattern develop as it descended from the sky he knew that he would not be allowed the luxury of escape and he knew that his time on the Great Table Of Life was over.

He sighed and closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable.

"Crap!" Susan said as she heard a soft 'Crack!' underneath her foot. As she looked down she could not help but notice the large green stain that covered the bottom of her shoe as well as a sizable part of the carpet.

"Damn, not another one. . ."

A/n: this was a prompt in a creative writing club my friend and I put together. I was writing in green. . . I kinda depressing I'll admit but so true. ^_^ This is for you Mollie!