This presentation summarizes the autobiography of a pen from the pen's perspective. The pen was a gift to Linda on her 15th birthday and was her favorite pen, called her "Lucky Pen", that she took everywhere. One day, the pen's nib was accidentally bent when Linda was writing harshly. This ended the pen's time being used by Linda. The pen misses being able to read Linda's thoughts by writing in her diary and being the first to know her feelings. It now sits waiting in Linda's pen stand, hoping to be used by her again but expecting it will remain waiting for the rest of its life.
Original Description:
This is an example of autobiography written by Abaitha Spencer
This presentation summarizes the autobiography of a pen from the pen's perspective. The pen was a gift to Linda on her 15th birthday and was her favorite pen, called her "Lucky Pen", that she took everywhere. One day, the pen's nib was accidentally bent when Linda was writing harshly. This ended the pen's time being used by Linda. The pen misses being able to read Linda's thoughts by writing in her diary and being the first to know her feelings. It now sits waiting in Linda's pen stand, hoping to be used by her again but expecting it will remain waiting for the rest of its life.
This presentation summarizes the autobiography of a pen from the pen's perspective. The pen was a gift to Linda on her 15th birthday and was her favorite pen, called her "Lucky Pen", that she took everywhere. One day, the pen's nib was accidentally bent when Linda was writing harshly. This ended the pen's time being used by Linda. The pen misses being able to read Linda's thoughts by writing in her diary and being the first to know her feelings. It now sits waiting in Linda's pen stand, hoping to be used by her again but expecting it will remain waiting for the rest of its life.
Good Morning my dear teachers and my dear friends My name is Abaitha Spencer and today I am going to present a power point presentation of the autobiography of a pen Autobiography of a pen I am a pen, red and shiny but had always written in royal blue. I am a gift from Linda’s dad on her fifteenth birthday. She was fond of me and used to take me everywhere, through people, places and events. I had travelled so much, through pages and pages of the feelings that lay inside her, through her writing. She used to call me her “Lucky Pen”. But one day, I remember her writing harsh on the roughest paper I had experienced. She accidentally put me down and dented my nib. That hurt! “Oh No!” she wept and cried even more. I wanted to console her, write “I’m OK! Really!” on the sheet of paper she had in front of her. But Alas I couldn’t because even though they call us mightier than the sword, neither can we stand on our own nor can we express what we feel. We can articulate what our owners feel or what they want but not about our own selves. So that was the last of her I had known! That was the last of Us! I enjoyed running over the soft and smooth pages of her diary, telling about all what she felt made me cry sometimes, reading what she wrote I loved being with her. “Lucky Pen” she used to call me and I was proud of that status. I am on the wait now for her to pick me up and give me some exercise. I miss reading into her mind. I miss being the first person to know what she felt. I miss her. She never even comes to me these days . I stay in her pen stand, waiting to be taken in her fingers again, drink in ink once more and spill it all out for her , but I guess I will have to stay like this and wait in vain for the rest of my life! I hope you enjoyed my presentation. Thank you and have a wonderful day ahead