It just sat there, mocking me.  It’s sharp white edges stood out in contrast to the scarred wood surface of the desk where it rested.  I would never be worthy of it.  Just thinking about it made my hands sweat.  Tentatively, I reached out.  My fingers inched across the desk towards its white mass.  I hesitated for a moment.  Could I really do it?  Could I take it in my hand and mar its perfection?

I could almost hear it laughing at me, taunting me.  I covered my ears, trying to shut out the noise.  I pushed away from my desk.  Maybe if I was in a different room, I would not feel its power.  But nothing worked.  I was drawn to it against my will.

Desperately, I snatched at it.  I could not fight the temptation any longer.  I caressed its silky surface with my thumb.  It’s weight felt good in my hand, reassuring.  There was the smell of promise on its surface.  We would do so much together. 

Not being able to hold off any longer, I ran one of its edges across the surface of the desk.  Rubber granules rolled off, leacing a path of white in its wake.  I sigh, contentment finally spreading through me.  There is just something absolutely comforting about wearing the edge off a brand new rubber eraser.