At times I have pondered the inexorable sadness of the pencils that are stuffed into my desk and their limited utility in my past. The rounded lead at the tip from filling int he little round squares on the SAT examine, and the night I a scrolled a final message for help as town villagers surrounded my condo with torches and rope for a lynching. The stacks of legal pads with penciled notes and cites from the American Legal Code. For now, the wooden projectiles sit idle in my desk, with scattered sharpeners with dulled steel blades. It is now that I realize that my laptop will one day be stuffed in that same drawer with these useless wooden sticks.

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