A Macdrabble tale

ANGRY

 

I’m angry again. Someone’s always pinching my pencil.

 

I’m not ready to work because my pencil’s not there. It’s happened everyday this week.

 

My gran brought me a new one from New Zealand. It had a rubber on the end. I was ready for work. It was a great pencil. Wrote neatly. Spelt correctly. Teacher praised me all morning. 

 

By dinner time it had gone. To New Zealand I guess.

 

Every time I find a good one in the tray, it goes. I’m left with the little one or the one that needs sharpening. I’m never ready.

 

I’m angry. Again.