The red pencil box

The red pencil box

Sammy’s red pencil box was unhappy. All the objects inside it were constantly fighting and driving it and Sammy crazy. They screamed and argued, raved and ranted, through the day.

“Why are you erasing our hard work?” a pencil shouted at the erasers.

The bunch of pencils, their points sharpened to perfection, huddled together scowling at the erasers. Selfish and vain, they thought they were the queens. Though the erasers had a tough job, they were softies at heart. They preferred to mind their own business and not throw their weight around.

“We are just doing our jobs,” they said softly.

“How dare you constantly erase whatever we write? You useless good-for-nothings,” a pencil yelled.

The erasers sobbed in the corner. They were heartbroken at the harsh words. No one had ever called them good-for-nothing or useless.

Next, the five pencils then fought with the sharpener. “What do you have to say for yourself?” a brown pencil yelled. “Always hurting us with your sharp insides.”