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An Ink Pencil
This time before the holidays, the only thing everyone talked about was whether or not they would be selling flour. Everyone talked about this because a rumor was going around that they would not be selling flour this time. And only a few days ago, there was another rumor that they would sell flour. And everyone was really happy.
When my dad heard this news, he said, “This is to make our life even merrier”[6]
. And Mom, of course, gave him THE look but did not say anything to him. But she told me that they would only sell one pack of flour per person. Therefore, she was going to take me with her to get two packs of flour.I hate having to stand in line with Mom. So I tried to tell Mom that one pack might be just enough for us. But Mom sternly replied that I had to go with her to the store and that I should stop whining and that she would try not to torture me for too long.
She said that I should go with her to the store in the morning and stay in line until they gave me a number. Then I would be on my own. But Mom would continue to stand in line. And as her turn would near, she would run out to get me, and I would just have to come and get the pack of flour.
Mom also warned me that we would have to wake up early in order to get to the store before it opened. If we came to the store before it opened, then we would be done earlier.
I asked Mom whether we still had any jam left from last year. Because when Mom bakes something out of flour, I like to top that “something” with a bit of jam. But Mom said that we had run out of jam. Then I said that since we were buying flour, maybe it made sense to also buy some jam.
But Mom said that, first of all, she had not seen jam sold in stores for a long time, second, it was very expensive to buy jam in the store, and third, she was going to make jam herself this summer.
In the morning we went to the store. Though we did not go as early as Mom had planned. But we still got there before the store opened. A pretty big crowd had already gathered. And Mom blamed me for taking so long to get ready, because they had already started to give out the numbers.
Soon it was our turn. Well, it was our turn to get numbers written on our palms. Numbers were being written by some woman with dark blue lips. She put the ink pencil in her mouth, moistened the pencil, and wrote a number on the palm of an old man who was standing in front of my mom.
Then she again moistened her pencil and wrote a number on Mom’s palm. Then she moistened her pencil one more time and wrote a number on my palm.
I asked my Mom what was the purpose of the ink pencil and who invented it and why.
And Mom said that she had no idea who invented it or why. She had never thought about it. And maybe, the ink pencil was invented just for writing numbers on palms.
Mom asked me to go home and do all my homework. And she said that later, after we bought flour, I could go out and play.