Is This Fiction No Stranger Than Truth?

It was quiet. So quiet you could hear a pen drop; so quiet that hours later, with the mournful screams of the pen's owner still ringing out across the countryside, the sound of the nib striking the hardwood floor straight on would still be clear in your mind's ear. I'm pretty sure it was a dark and stormy night. But the storm was kind of quiet.

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Originally Posted by Niner

It was quiet. So quiet you could hear a pen drop; so quiet that hours later, with the mournful screams of the pen's owner still ringing out across the countryside, the sound of the nib striking the hardwood floor straight on would still be clear in your mind's ear. I'm pretty sure it was a dark and stormy night. But the storm was kind of quiet.

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and the darkness shielded the owner from the horrific sight of the nib striking the floor. It was only when the owner lit the oil lamp did the true carnage become known.

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Originally Posted by Wile E Coyote

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Niner

It was quiet. So quiet you could hear a pen drop; so quiet that hours later, with the mournful screams of the pen's owner still ringing out across the countryside, the sound of the nib striking the hardwood floor straight on would still be clear in your mind's ear. I'm pretty sure it was a dark and stormy night. But the storm was kind of quiet.

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and the darkness shielded the owner from the horrific sight of the nib striking the floor. It was only when the owner lit the oil lamp did the true carnage become known.

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These are the tines that try men's souls.

That was the French Ending.
The American Ending is, luckily he had a box of Esterbrook pens, to put in his pen holder.

Complete nonsense

very funny