When he recieved a new pen as a gift, he wondered what should be the first words to be written. Immediately the pen did not work. He licked his finger to moisten the nib. And after some slow purposeful circles the ink finally began to run.

On a piece of brown scrap paper, below an old list from earlier he wrote, ‘Thankyou for your service’.

The ink ran and ran. Until his wrist begun to hurt.
The hurt was great.