Every now and then, I can get my husband to talk about his past.
One morning, I was commenting on how much I like to write with gel pens--love, love, love them! I said they reminded me of the ink well and pens we used in 4th grade at Emerson Elementary in Gary, Indiana. We sat in those old, heavy, wooden, black, wrought iron desks, and the top of the desks housed a small well where the ink waited to be dipped into by pens with metal tips.
Writing then was a slow process, but you felt like you were creating a writing masterpiece by slowly dipping the pen into the ink well, and then proceeding to write for a very short period of time before you had to go back again and dip the pen into the ink well again and again.
I looked up and saw my husband's eyes glaze over. Aha! He remembered those pens and ink wells, too, and he must have loved to write with them, also--Wow!--something I never knew about Steve!
Steve then spoke up, "Yeah, I would dip that metal tip into the ink well, making sure it was full, and then very carefully, I would place the pen tip on a strand of hair of the girl who sat in front of me. I watched as those little dots of ink were absorbed into that strand--it soaked right in! Then the teacher took my ink well away from me!"
(Uproarius laughter from me!)
This is, oh, so Steve!!! Talk about voice!!
One morning, I was commenting on how much I like to write with gel pens--love, love, love them! I said they reminded me of the ink well and pens we used in 4th grade at Emerson Elementary in Gary, Indiana. We sat in those old, heavy, wooden, black, wrought iron desks, and the top of the desks housed a small well where the ink waited to be dipped into by pens with metal tips.
Writing then was a slow process, but you felt like you were creating a writing masterpiece by slowly dipping the pen into the ink well, and then proceeding to write for a very short period of time before you had to go back again and dip the pen into the ink well again and again.
I looked up and saw my husband's eyes glaze over. Aha! He remembered those pens and ink wells, too, and he must have loved to write with them, also--Wow!--something I never knew about Steve!
Steve then spoke up, "Yeah, I would dip that metal tip into the ink well, making sure it was full, and then very carefully, I would place the pen tip on a strand of hair of the girl who sat in front of me. I watched as those little dots of ink were absorbed into that strand--it soaked right in! Then the teacher took my ink well away from me!"
(Uproarius laughter from me!)
This is, oh, so Steve!!! Talk about voice!!
I laughed aloud when I got to the end! Tam, this is fabulous! The first line...wish I had written it! And the rest--they way you unfold it. Just fabulous! I cannot wait to read more of your slices this month. This one's a gem!
ReplyDeleteYou held such allure for me in that first line, & I thought it might be something somber, something to feel sorry about. What a great turn-around you did; it was such fun at the end.
ReplyDeleteI love how you are still discovering things about Steve after all your years of marriage. How inspiring. Thanks for the laugh. Does Steve know he made your blog? :)
ReplyDeletehugs,
ruth
I agree. Great hook! You really slowed down time by describing your own memory of the ink wells then popped us with a zinger at the end! Loved it.
ReplyDeleteFrom the sublime to the subversive! love the connection found between you and your husband.
ReplyDelete