Short Story 40: Journey of a Colour Pencil
Short Story 40: Journey of a Colour Pencil
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I am a colour pencil—soft pink, made from high-quality wood in a factory in Johor. I was born alongside eleven others in a cheerful box. Our mission? To bring colour and happiness into young lives.
One day, a kind art teacher bought us and sent us to a boarding school. That’s where I met Qaseh, a Year 5 student who loved drawing. She chose me to colour flowers, skies, and hearts. Her hands were gentle, and her imagination flowed through my tip.
Every night, before bed, Qaseh wrote notes to her late mother in her sketchbook. She'd whisper, “Pink was Mum’s favourite,” while shading with me. I realised I wasn’t just a pencil. I was a messenger of love and longing.
One evening, I rolled off her desk and fell between the bed and the wall. Days passed. She searched everywhere, but I was nowhere to be found. Lonely and fading, my tip became dull, and my colour grew faint.
Then one rainy afternoon, a junior student found me and gave me to the art teacher. She gasped, “This is Qaseh’s pencil!” Moments later, I was reunited with her.
She cried as she held me. “I thought I’d lost you forever,” she whispered, sharpening me tenderly. Her drawings became brighter, her hope stronger. I knew—even as a tiny pencil—I held emotions, stories, and resilience.
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📝Even the smallest things can hold the biggest parts of someone's heart.
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By: Siti Isah Ithnin



Thank you so much for sharing....
ReplyDeleteMost welcome.. 🤗
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