International Tutors' Magazine April 2019 | Page 12

INTERNATIONAL TUTORS’ MAGAZINE
“Writing is the most beautiful form of expression,” she had always told me.
Looking at the pen, I think of her. Without her encouragement, I wouldn’t have ever
become serious about my writing. I wouldn’t have discovered my passion, my calling in
life. I wouldn’t be where I am right now, about to start a good school and my journey of
becoming a writer. We haven’t talked in years, but I still find myself tearing up as I stare
at this beautiful, precious gift.
* * * * *
It’s Faith’s birthday tomorrow. John is on a business trip, so he gave me some money to
buy her a present. If it were our son’s birthday, he would certainly come back to celebrate
with him, no matter what. I’m not saying he neglects our daughter. He still remembered
it’s her birthday and was thoughtful enough to ask me to buy her a present.
I wander around the mall for hours, unsure of what to buy. But something catches my
eye. A fountain pen on display in a bookstore. I stop. For a moment, I’m young and full
of dreams again.
It’s been 13 years since I last wrote. After marrying John, I’ve been too occupied. After
having Faith and my son, I’ve been too tired to do anything except take care of them. I
pick up the pen, imagining the strokes on the paper in my mind, taking me to magical
realms nobody else could trespass, to a life I will never be able to have…
“Can I help you, Miss?” the salesman asked.
“No... no, you cannot.”
I abandon the pen on the display rack, just like the pen in my room, alone and waiting.
It will never know that her writer has abandoned her forever. v
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