My pen.

Where did it go?

The last place I remember having it was in my hand a couple of days ago as I was writing my itinerary for my two-week trip to California.

Usually, I wouldn’t have cared about losing a pen, as I lost them all the time and had plenty to spare. But this pen wasn’t one I’d purchased as part of a pack at Office Depot.

No, it had been a birthday gift from a relative who understood and shared my passion for the written word.

The pen was black, had some weight to it since it was metal, smooth in texture, and was refillable.

You twisted the top to open and close it, so you couldn’t lose the cap or break the clicky button.

I smiled whenever I held it in my hand and wrote with it, its smooth ink, not smudging all over the page. I felt like a real writer whenever I wrote with it.

So I would be devastated if I lost it forever.

I searched my entire office, pulling out drawers and emptying containers. But it was to no avail.

It had to be around here somewhere.

Clutching the top of my head and fisting my hair, I expanded my search into the living room, starting with my coffee table.

Nope. It wasn’t there. And I only had a couple of hours before I needed to leave for the airport.

I took a deep breath, calming my nerves. Panicking wouldn’t help me find it. Maybe I needed to stop looking so hard. I did get tunnel vision whenever I concentrated on something.

So, I stepped back into the kitchen and softly scanned my living room—still nothing.

But then I noticed something weighing down the front right pocket of my maroon hoodie. And it wasn’t my phone, which was on the kitchen counter.

Could it be?

I slipped my hand into it, sighing when I touched its cold, smooth surface.

Of course! I was at the coffee shop yesterday writing in my journal. I must have forgotten to take it out when I returned home and hung my hoodie on the hook by my front door.

I examined it, making sure nothing had broken off or chipped.

Satisfied with its condition, I walked back into my office, tidied things up, and placed the pen in one of the drawers of my desk.

I then closed my office doors and continued packing for my trip.

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About Amethyst Champagne

creating poetry and microfiction

Hi there, and welcome to my page! I'm a creative writer who has a knack for short-form fiction! So most of my posts are short and sweet. :)

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