“Oh no! I don’t want to go to the shops!” screamed the only talking lead pencil.
No one could hear the pencil speaking because it was wrapped tightly in a box with all the pencils that couldn’t talk. All the trucks where making such a racket no wonder they couldn’t hear the lead pencil talking.
The Lead Pencil tried talking to all the other pencils but they didn’t reply because they couldn’t talk. After that it stopped trying to talk to the other pencils because it knew they would never reply. Lead was depressed.
When the truck arrived at the shops there were a few people there to help unload the truck. Lead could not only talk, but it could see and hear too. It was on the outer layer so it could watch all the people unpack his fellow lead pencils. Lead tried calling out to the workers unloading the truck but they just didn’t pay any attention because they were concentrating on getting the truck unloaded.
“Look at this guys it’s a lead pencil with a face, you don’t come across one of those everyday,” said one of the workers.
They all gathered around the man holding Lead. They muttered something about taking it back to company but they forgot about it and just took all the lead pencils into the shop.
Lead tried to forget about being put in a shop and decided to go to sleep. While it was sleeping Lead was placed on a shelf in an isle with some of the other lead pencils, not all the lead pencils were there. They must have been carried off somewhere or they fell off the shelf but Lead couldn’t see any lead pencils on the ground. It decided that they must have been carried off somewhere.
Lead discovered that it was in a container of lead pencils and that it would be able to wriggle to the top of the container because it didn’t have a lid. While people were browsing they might pick up the lead pencil with a face and then they might accidentally drop it, Lead thought of that concept.
To Lead’s surprise a person picked up Lead and dropped him in a moving trolley, taking no notice of Lead’s face.
A loaf of bread was squashing Lead now and then nine cans of spaghetti and baked beans. Lead was getting really squashed because it was at the bottom of the trolley. Lead fainted because so much food and some coloured pencils that didn’t talk piled in the trolley.
When it woke up it was in a tin with blue, purple and green biros and a couple of lead pencils. Lead tried talking to them but none of them replied. Lead sighed.
“Howdy, what’s your name?” said the Blue Biro.
Was someone talking to Lead? It was a blue pen that was talking. Wow!
“Hello, I think my name is Lead, I suppose that your name’s Blue,” replied Lead.
“It’s really boring here because those bits of stationary don’t talk,” grumbled Blue, “Everyday I get picked up and used at the same time, but now that my ink’s running out I’m not getting used as much. What’s your story? How did you come here?”
“I was in the factory for about two months and then I got chucked in a truck and sent off with all the other lead pencils. When I was on the shelf I had to wriggle to the top to see what was happening.”
“That happens I had to go through that same process to get here even though I didn’t want to come here,” commented Blue.
“And then I got chucked into a trolley-I fainted because everything was piling up on top of me I nearly broke! Then I was just here,” explained Lead.
Suddenly Lead got lifted out of the jar by a child .
“Mummy can I use this brand new lead pencil,” said the child in a babyish tone.
“Yes you can use it,” answered the mum.
The child ran to the couch with a piece of paper and put the piece of paper on the couch very carefully. Then she started drawing wild designs with Lead. She ripped the paper at times but she didn’t bother to notice. Lead was starting to get an extreme headache because the child was drawing to hard and Lead was only a sketching pencil. When the child finished up with a crazy design, she went and stuck it on the fridge. She grabbed Lead and chucked it back in the pen and pencil tin.
“I’m only a sketching pencil not a HB. I don’t want to live here anymore,” cried Lead.
Lead burst out into tears. Lead nearly filled up the tin with tears but Blue calmed Lead down by saying that once you grow older you won’t be used as much or it used to happen to me.
When the mother of the nasty little child came to use Lead she saw how blunt it was and sharpened it. Lead was in real pain when it got sharpened because it’s head already hurt from being blunted by the nasty little child. Lead survived the sharpening and was carried to the table.
The mother was going to do a crossword! Lead loved crosswords they were it’s favourite puzzle. Lead guessed most of the answers before she did but Lead couldn’t write them down because it would give it away. Blue said that you shouldn’t give away your secret to anyone. My friend was chucked in the bin because he told his owners that he was the only talking eraser in the world.
After about an hour she gave up on the crossword and left Lead on the table. The little nasty child grabbed Lead off the table and sat on the couch. She went to grab a piece of paper and left Lead all alone on the couch.
Suddenly a person sat on the couch on top of Lead. It was really unpleasant for Lead when it thought it was definitely going to get broken. Then the person done the worst thing for Lead- the person farted. Lead wanted to roll away but it was squashed by the person’s bum. The smell was terrible it was the worst fart in the whole universe. The person got up and chucked Lead on the floor. Fresh air.
The nasty little child grabbed Lead and did some more crazy drawings on the fresh piece of paper. As she was drawing wildly Lead snapped.
“Owwww that hurts I’m dying noooo, talking pencils are supposed to live longer,” cried Lead.
As Lead died the little nasty child was asking her mum to buy a new lead pencil.
Lead had no special funeral but was thrown in the bin. Blue tried to find another stationary friend that talked but he never found one. After a month Blue ran out of ink and was chucked in the bin too.
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"would you believe it, that i am also working on a short story regarding a talking pencil!. We must me using our imagination, and must be writer alike. " -- A bhambra, Hayes, Great Britain, Middlesex..
"ha your posted all of the net you must be famous" -- hayleigh , adelaide, south australia, australia.
"Don't we all wish we were famous. For the past say 18 years - my work was sent off to the editors to be published and l must say l never had any hassle from them - Net is different you are connected in a different way and l must say that l am hooked on the net. It save me the postage stamps anyways! Its a wonderful way to be connected with other writters - Like your goodselve." -- Amy, Hayes, UK.
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