Inside my briefcase, the pencil gave a quick wink to the sheet of paper

while doing-so its silver top partially covering the yellow beneath.

Not too obvious, just enough for the white paper to blush first pink, than red,

as self-consciously it slipped itself back amongst the other sheets of paper.

And so the romance blossomed, within the confines of my briefcase.

The big day finally arrived.

Files opened like big, brass doors,

as paper clip bridesmaids followed the bride through.

Other pens and pencils formed an archway.

Later, all their stationery friends danced the night away.

Eventually the couple were escorted to their car

by a rainbow of colour pencils and felt-tip pens.

This was an old-fashioned love story.

Brought to you, courtesy of

-         My Dictaphone. -