It used to be dark green but, sadly, the green eventually peeled away (actually, I peeled it away, in moments of absent-mindedness). There have been times when I thought it missing forever, and I celebrated as heartily as the shepherd finding his lost sheep when it was found: in the dungeon that lies in the depths of our sofa; within the furthest reaches of a duvet cover (I’m a big fan of writing in bed); in the midst of moon-sized dustballs under my bed. In fountain pen years, this one isn’t so old, perhaps only twenty years, but it’s seen off several desktops and laptops. Its ink has filled roomfuls of pages, but the most beautiful mark it makes is the first touch of its nib at the top of a blank sheet.
For more tales of endurance, head over to this week’s photo challenge. http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_photo_challenge/endurance/