Pencil

They stepped down from the hover bus at the front of the museum.

The old man and his grandson rode the travel-path to the entrance and walked in. There was no charge for entry, such things had been banished from society a very long time ago. They began to follow the floor arrows that would guide them through several sections that contained examples of objects that were no longer used by people. The youngster was fascinated; he’d wanted to visit the museum ever since his teacher had told the class about how things used to be done long before the era of virtual technology had changed the way people lived their lives. On that occasion she had brought a pencil in to class to show them. She said it was extremely old and quite precious. They weren’t allowed to touch it, but could file past her desk and take a closer look.

As they moved through the museum he was amazed at all the things he had never seen before. He had seen pictures of some of the items in their glass cabinets, but not all of them. Some things were older than others. They were about half way round when the boy was intrigued by the next sign.

“What’s a writing implement?” the boy asked.

Pleased to see how interested the boy was, the other said, “Let’s have a look, shall we?”

They came to a large cabinet that was filled with examples. Each one had a small card saying what it was. The man started to point them out. “That’s a writing quill, made from a feather. The cut end is the nib that’s dipped into that little pot with ink in it. That one’s a fountain pen, with a metal nib and filled with ink inside. This one here is a ballpoint pen, it has a tiny ball at the tip that rolls around getting covered with ink.”

He nudged the boy’s arm with his elbow. “And that one there is a pencil. You know about that one don’t you? Is it like the one you saw at school?”

“Yes, but that one was orange with black stripes. This one is blue.”

“That’s interesting. Anyway, like all of the others, it’s just one more thing that people used to write with.”

The boy moved around the cabinet. He was gazing at a small silver-coloured, metal block. The small description card had fallen over. He was moving around the showcase further to see that the hole through the middle was big at one end and small at the other. There were rippled patterns on either side, with what looked like a small blade screwed to the top.

He pointed. “What’s this funny looking thing?”

The old man chuckled.

“Why are you laughing, grandad?”

The old man explained that he had never actually seen one of these before, but many years ago he’d seen a picture of one.

He said, “I know a pencil sharpener when I see one.”

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