Magic

The shiny black cover of a new notebook, lures me, from its place on the bed.

I sniff its delicious newness with delight while slowly I turn the pages.

Stories flood my head, vivid pictures and tender poems mix with color descriptions and lonely poetry until they're all just a bunch of meaningless words.

I sift through it, untangling the jumbo. Then a story leaps out at me itching through my fingertips to be told.

I reach for the sharpened pencil, and chew on it's pink eraser. Then I put the tip to the lined paper and watch with interest as my story unfolds on to its hungry pages.