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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

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A puff of dust blew out the door of the office as the busy mom walked in. She saw a chair covered in a few stray papers. Mom starts a basic inventory of surroundings. Some dust, lots of papers and a picture of a dragon on the wall along with a few others. Various name plates were strewn across the office rather inadvertently, making it very unclear who is actually in “charge” of the place. Mom decides that the person(s) in charge of the office must lead a very busy life much like her own.

Since the kids are back in school, the busy writing mom decides to dig in her pack of mom stuff and get out the travel Swiffer duster. After carefully dusting the pictures and nameplates, mom debates on whether to attempt to organize papers. “Nah, I don’t think so,” she thought to herself. “After all, everyone has their own organization system, whatever this may be.” Mom opts for the next best thing and carefully moves the few papers off the chair to sit down after arranging them so she knew exactly which papers she moved to put back on the chair when she left.

With another dig through the Mom pack she pulls out a pen and paper and begins to write something for the person(s) in charge.

 

Busy lives we all seem to lead,

Rushing about at breakneck speed

Some of us have kids and spouses,

Jobs to pay for cars and houses,

Demanding boss, crazy hours

No time to smell the flowers

Attending concerts and games

Washing laundry with awful stains

Dinner and dirty dishes

Fulfilling copious wishes

In many circles we must run

Attempting to get it all done

When plans do suddenly alter

We try to withstand the falter

 

In other words I know you’re busy, don’t worry about getting back to me in a hurry.

Sincerely ,

Busy writing mom

 

(Aka: Delilah, in some circles)

 

Mom finds some string and a hook and hangs the note from the ceiling so that the next person that comes in will find the note easily. She puts the papers that were removed from the chair exactly as they were and heads out the door, with the intention of stopping by again later.

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*Appy bounces in on her skippyball in search of the Long-Lost-Almost-Dragon and bounces straight into the poem hanging from the ceiling. Startled she throws herself backwards and lands on the floor with a THUD.

Entranced she stares at the new words, not noticing HOW hard she fell.*

 

mumblebusymumblespeedtududutdutudhmmmm NICE!

 

*After a quick search of the room (turning over papers and generally making the mess more messy) she sighs at not finding even a scale of the Long-Lost-Almost-Dragon*

 

I guess not today either, but good idea of hanging that there!

 

*She digs around in her backpack and scribbles something on a piece of paper with the pen she just took out, hanging it neatly beneath the fresh poem with a pink and purple striped paperclip*

 

Nice poem! Welcome and see you about no doubt!

PS: See? I can rhyme too! ^_^

 

 

----

 

Welcome! I'm sure someone who can process your application will be along soon-ish :blush: *whisper* we're a kinda slow community nowadays, but that doesn't mean nothing ever happens ;)

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A large black crow alighted on the windowsill with a clattering flap of wings. It peered around the office with beady eyes before taking a skip to land on the desk that was covered in papers. With a sigh, the crow shrugged its shoulders, ruffled it's feathers, and a moment later it had stretched and pulled into the shape of a long, lanky young woman with unevenly cut hair that flashed like a cuttlefish before settling down into a deep purple. Her ears were black and foxlike, cocked now in irritation, and her lizard-like tail twitched.

 

Degorram placed her hands on her hips and shook her head. "I leave the window open for convenience and the wind ruins my organization." She leaned over and pulled the glass panes shut, and as if on command the papers flew into the air and settled back down, neatly stacked and categorized. She pulled a sour face at the many name plates on the wall and gently took them down, reading their names as she went:

 

"Circe, Socrates, Poe, Dickens...Wyvern." Degorram paused on the last name and shook her head sadly. "I really should get my own name plate. Might be a bit less confusing."

 

As she placed the name plates of former Application Associates into a drawer, she noticed one of the pieces of paper on her desk hopping about upright, as if to get her attention. She picked it up and scanned her eyes over it.

 

"Ah!" she cried, her hair flashing turquoise. "Wonderful!" Grabbing the over-sized green stamp on her desk, she slammed it down on the paper, leaving a large, shimmering "ACCEPTED." Then Degorram tucked the paper into her files.

 

She pulled out a sticky note and began scrawling a note on it -- "Dear Mom (do you prefer Delilah?), thank you for your application! You will find that it has been enthusiastically accepted and you now bear the title of Initiate. Welcome to the Pen! Sincerely, Degorram, the Applications Keeper."

 

Degorram folded the sticky note into a paper swan and sent it flapping out the window to find its owner, wherever on the Pen complexes she might now be.

 

OOC: Welcome to the Pen Delilah! :D Excellent show on the poem. I hope we'll see more from you very soon!

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Mom is busy scribbling away on a paper with a pen from her MomPack waiting in the pick up line at the elementary school, after an 8 hour shift. She was so into writing that she did not notice the paper swan flay into the car. The announcement bell blared, so mom puts the pen down to listen to the school news of the day. As she looked up she saw the swan had settled on the dash beneath the windshield. "Hmm. How did that get there, oh wait that's not...what is that?" She picks up the swan and unfolds it reads the note and smiles and says aloud, "Thanks, and I hope to be writing more soon too." The other moms look about at each other, and at her shake their head, and go back to texting or whatever they were doing. "I shall show them all, just wait." she thinks to herself. She smiles a wry little smile and returns to her scribbling.

Edited by WritingMom

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