The scratching sound Sevastian’s quill made as it cut into the parchment seemed oddly musical when its sound filled the room to the snap and crackle of the logs burning in the hearth. He formed his letters slowly and carefully, taking time to make sure what he was writing flowed and didn’t sound as woolly as his last draft had. That same draft had long since curled up and blackened as the fire had lapped at its sides. Now all that was left to suggest mistake was of a pot of ink, two blunt quills and a smudge of scarlet on Sevastian’s chin.
Pressing his quill into the parchment, Sevastian ended the sentence. He put the quill down carefully beside the sheet and read through what he’d written – from the very beginning. His lips pursed as his inner voice recited the words. His hand strayed back to the quill soon enough; and he corrected a sentence that would have been wrong had it not been accompanied by a specific piece of grammar. He then placed the quill back down beside the page and continued to read. Sevastian wasn’t going to turn the essay in until it was absolutely perfect; he would be content until it was anything but.
Sighing, Sevastian found a mistake. He gritted his teeth and grabbed the page off of the table. He balled it up, his long fingers attacking the page, and threw it into the fire. Sparks flew from the hearth and Sevastian watched the parchment burn. Even when it was gone, though, he did not feel better. Instead he felt frustrated and just plain unhappy. Sevastian rose from his seat and began to pace behind his chair. He wrung his hands together and tugged at his hair. He couldn’t take much more of this. He was meticulous but he still made mistakes! He had two weeks left to finish the essay and he was nowhere near ready. The fools that left it to the last minute were in for a shock when they finally looked at the material.
He needed a distraction, to take his mind off of the inane practice of essay writing – or, at the very least, a Quick Quotes Quill.
by Baldric Pierson Sat Jun 18, 2011 8:21 pm
