the pen

At first I am drawing and as I begin I notice sound forming from the strokes of the pen I am using. At first it is very choppy and I let the sounds hang in the air and then draw more but I am trying to hard and though the sounds are beautiful, they are not complete. There is a young boy who asks if he can use the pen, he sits next to me and I watch him begin to draw. As he draws the sounds connect and there is a distinct song that begins to play. He is constantly sweeping his hand across the page as though conducting the picture. He shades parts of the image, the contours of cloth are filled in and the music doesn’t falter. I lay down next to him drawing and close my eyes and listen to the music. I start to feel like I am floating and that the music has a special quality to it. The scratches of pen on the page form the sounds of never before heard instruments and they envelope me for what feels like forever. It becomes quieter and softer and each stroke of the pen feels like feathers on my ears and on the inside of my eyes.