My second favourite thing is a clean, crisp sheet of paper; one that has been touched by neither ink nor lead. My first favourite thing, on the other hand, is a fingerprinted, crinkled, well-used sheet of paper. One filled with the scribbles we call letters, dusted with eraser peices, and smudged from hand and wrist dancing along it. By now you may have concluded my favourite activity- writing.
A sheet of paper delicately lies in fron of me on the wooden desktop. The pencil, sharpened to peak perfection, sits patiently beside it, waiting. Music plays softly, filling the air with it's musical alphabet. It is a tool for inspiration so that I may find the letters in our alphabet to create something beautiful. I sit down and grasp the pencil. The piece to the puzzle, it fits perfectly. Sliding the paper forwards, I give a deep sigh and begin to ponder the immense topics of which to write. The paper remains blank and pure for just a moment more.
The music softly whispers in my ears. Dashing in and out of my mind it beckons the words to come out and twirl along the page. After a short time, they oblige. The scratching of the pencil against paper mingles with the hum of the music. Hand and pencil move as ne, engaged in an intricate waltz, moving steadily down the page. The music continues to march forth words. Then, instantaneously, they stop.
The pencil drops graciously from my hand. Deeply I exhale and my hands fall softly on either side of the paper. I am the coach studying my gymnast as I examine my work. Slowly, thoroughly, again and again I read it. Making sure every line is to standards. After what seems an eternity, I am finished. The piece is fully completed. I smile as I get up to leave, knowing tomorrow I will once again find myself with my favourite thing.
She walks in beauty
Like the night
Upon darkened hills
Under starlit skies
Bless the moon
And enchanted magic
In the name of the
And the Elements
Merry meet, merry part, and merry meet again!