pens raze they show up after dinner. thrown onto the porch as an afterthought and left to shiver in the dark. two loops of elastane hold each smooth cylinder upright against a piece of hard, glossy paper folded in on itself to create two shallow walls, with four tiny metal rods to fix them in place. what drew me to these pens was the colour of their skin. pastel pink and purple like the mini eggs i used to love. i free one from its feeble prison and press the tip to pulped wood. the oil-based ink lacks the thickness of the water i've grown accustomed to. but what i hold between my thumb and two truest fingers feels like a friend in a way few things have. 231128 what's it to you? who go blather from