Saturday, while I was out looking for something to take a picture of, I went to an antique mall I like to poke around in sometimes. I found a book about Faulkner I've never seen before, enjoyed looking at all the fascinating things, but I was getting ready to leave since I really didn't have much money. I idly asked the guy behind the counter if they had any fountain pens, rather expecting the answer to be no.
To my surprise, he led me over to a case with a tray of restored pens of various brands, took them out, and left me to look them over while he waited on other customers. Many of them were unremarkable, plain black resin in various states of repair, nothing striking or memorable. In the end compartment of the fabric-lined tray, however, shining like a little jewel was a garnet-colored 1940s Chatham with a tag that said it had been restored.
The color and the unusual basket-weave pattern of the resin caught my attention. It is a piston-fill, and I don't have any of those, so I was reluctant to get something I would have to fill from the bottle, but the more I looked at it and handled it, the more it felt like something that was a part of me. I finally decided to buy it.
Today, I inked it for the first time, remembering that it was in my purse and that my Levenger ink was in my school desk. It writes divinely; the 60-year-old-nib is better than any other that I have. The color continues to enchant, even more lovely in the light of day than it was in the dimness of the shop. It pleases me tremendously to have this beautiful old object brought to life in my hands and working at its appointed task once more.
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And then you said.....