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Description
Complete and total darkness surrounded her and her kin for who knows how long. She certainly didn't. She knew a time when she had been free of her confinement, not laid immobile but helping him to create worlds from words, to stir hearts and minds. The machine had taken her place and he hunched over it every night, ignoring her mute beckoning, her silent pleas, trying to will her desperation to be be brought into the light again into the front of his mind. Nothing. Until one day the man's machine jammed and failed him. With no time to take it in for repair and lacking the skill and knowledge to fix it himself, he finally looked to the prison he kept her and her kin within.
"Hm... Haven't used you in a while..." He gripped her tight, pulling her out of the drawer, shaking her lightly and bringing her to the paper, her nib releasing the blackness within her as he carried her along the sheet, dancing her along as his world revealed itself to his mind and to her as she read the words he used her to write. At the end of the sixth paragraph, however, she felt exhausted from so little use over the time since her first imprisonment, and the darkness started to consume and choke her. The man shook her violently, trying to draw it out again, dragging her fiercely along another sheet of paper, but nothing came forth, she was blocked, and worse, she had halted him in the middle of a word. Growling lightly the man started to carry her across the room, not hearing her desperate thoughts pushed in his direction.
"Please... I have more. I know it! I just... need a little rest. Please, don't... Don't just-No! No, anything but that!" She was tumbling, falling into the abyss, spinning over and over as she gained speed and plunged into the refuse and ruin, the failed worlds that were aborted, to the final death of words. There, lying in the rubbish, she could do nothing but wait, hoping that her sisters fared better than she as the man reached for the drawer again...

Description
Complete and total darkness surrounded her and her kin for who knows how long. She certainly didn't. She knew a time when she had been free of her confinement, not laid immobile but helping him to create worlds from words, to stir hearts and minds. The machine had taken her place and he hunched over it every night, ignoring her mute beckoning, her silent pleas, trying to will her desperation to be be brought into the light again into the front of his mind. Nothing. Until one day the man's machine jammed and failed him. With no time to take it in for repair and lacking the skill and knowledge to fix it himself, he finally looked to the prison he kept her and her kin within.
"Hm... Haven't used you in a while..." He gripped her tight, pulling her out of the drawer, shaking her lightly and bringing her to the paper, her nib releasing the blackness within her as he carried her along the sheet, dancing her along as his world revealed itself to his mind and to her as she read the words he used her to write. At the end of the sixth paragraph, however, she felt exhausted from so little use over the time since her first imprisonment, and the darkness started to consume and choke her. The man shook her violently, trying to draw it out again, dragging her fiercely along another sheet of paper, but nothing came forth, she was blocked, and worse, she had halted him in the middle of a word. Growling lightly the man started to carry her across the room, not hearing her desperate thoughts pushed in his direction.
"Please... I have more. I know it! I just... need a little rest. Please, don't... Don't just-No! No, anything but that!" She was tumbling, falling into the abyss, spinning over and over as she gained speed and plunged into the refuse and ruin, the failed worlds that were aborted, to the final death of words. There, lying in the rubbish, she could do nothing but wait, hoping that her sisters fared better than she as the man reached for the drawer again...