The purloined pen

“Can I borrow your pen?” the stranger in the coffee house said.

I handed over my Bic, but in no time he and my pen were gone in the crowd.

I was livid. Who would so wantonly filch my pen? I like that pen. It’s seen me through a lot of my favorite writing. We have a kinship.

So I gathered my belongings and set off to find him. I rushed outside, to see him hopping into a car.

I spied the license plate, and pulled out my notepad and pen, to write down the num…

Hey, wait a minute!

(by Marianne McCann. Presented at Espresso Yourself, 4th April, 2015.)


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