Life is colorful, so is our blood

I was born in a factory. They had filled me with blue blood and dressed me in a transparent plastic outfit. I was then given a plastic helmet which protects my intelligent head. So did my siblings - ten of them.

We were all happy together until one day; a boy separated me from my beloved ones. He removed my helmet and put down his thoughts using my intelligent head. My blood  drains out every time he does this.

“Dinner is ready”- a husky voice from downstairs.

At that moment I found myself amidst many other people like me in a small pipe. The first person whom I saw was Mr. Highlighter. He was a fat man with fluorescent yellow blood. He said he has been living there since many months and has seen many ’Use and throw Pen’ men pass away. He was very proud of himself as his head is used to highlight the important points in any document.

As I averted my glance from the bragging fatso I saw Ms. Pinpoint Red. She was a slim and sassy girl and had pink blood. I had not seen such a beauty ever. I was ogling at her to her discomfort. While I tried to take my eyes off her, I saw Mr. Reynolds Black, who is from Africa. There was Mr. Add Gel who knew German and had the German technology gel mechanism on the rear end of his body.

Then there was Mrs. Pencil, who was a very strong hearted woman. She had a graphite body. She always wore a wooden outfit with colorful stripes on it. She was married to Mr. Eraser who is from the West. He said that he always erases the mistakes of his mistress and expects perfection in every work. He also said that she always goes to a beauty parlor called ‘The Sharpener’. She comes back with a very sharp head and a beautiful smile on her newly carved face.

                                   

“Our life is colorful” exclaimed a few sketch pens. Apparently they were all similar in appearance but different in color. There was Violet, Indigo, Blue, Green, Yellow, Orange and Red. They said, “We come in rainbow colors and we make lives interesting”.

 Suddenly I had a strange feeling in my body. Some of my blood had oozed out. Mr. Ink Pen said its cancer. I was startled then. I thought I would die. But Mr. Ink Pen took me to Dr. Ink Pot’s clinic. He was a fat man with lot of blood in his body. After examining my condition he told that it was just due to a mistake in my making and it could be cured by changing the tip. He then took out a tip from his collection. My tip was surgically removed and the new tip was implanted. Since then I am hale and healthy, happily helping the boy put all his thoughts on paper.
   Credits:Inspired by an article "UNPROTECTED"by Simon Rich,JULY 30, 2012 in The New Yorker.