This journey couldn’t get any longer thought Pain. He picked up the crossword from the table and scanned it, it was ink free, he had yet to complete even a single one. He sighed as he put the paper back down.

Note to self Pain, If your great grand aunt tells you that she has been feeling down lately, you send her some flowers or something, but what you do not do is buy a ticket and board on the next train that leaves, to go and visit her.

He let out his  inner anguish and decided to shut off his eyes. Maybe he could sleep the whole journey through, maybe sleep could do something his coffee couldn’t, make his headache disappear. No soon had he closed his eyes, his nose became acute to a rather displeasing odor coming it’s way. He opened his eyes, and looked around annoyed, searching for the source of this vile smell. And they found the perpetrator, the young toddler resting in his mother’s arms and what’s more Pain could swear the young devil had a smirk on his face. In disbelief he closed off his eyes and attempted again to sleep. But now another thought came into his mind, the writing on the note he had found. He opened his eyes once more and took out the note he had in his pocket. There were only three words on it, “down the road” written with an ink that looked like purple.

First of all who would write those three words and just leave the note behind. Secondly the purple pen? Never in his life had he seen someone use a purple pen. And lastly what did it mean? Down what road? Was it a lyric to some song or was it to be used as reminder for something? Okay Pain, get a frikking grip. Why did he even pick the note in the first place, but he knew the answer to that. He needed change in his life, and in that moment that piece of paper gave him some vague hope, and he snatched at it. What was he doing with his life? He just shook his head and shut his for the third time.


“Hey, Hey!”

“Wha-?”, Pain saw a woman standing in front of him as his eyes adjusted.

“You’re drooling” she sniggered. “Here”, she said offering him a tissue.

“Thanks. Did you wake me to tell that I was drooling?”, he shot right back.

“Well that, and to take what is mine.”, she replied waving the note at him. “Why do you have this?”, she questioned almost accusingly.

“Oh, umm.. I found that just lying there on my coffee table, I liked it so I kept it. You know how it goes, finders keepers and whatnot”.

“Is that the best you can come up with? Are you four?”, she indulged sitting right across from him.

“In my defense, you did just wake me up. I need to have my beauty rest before I can come up with good excuses. What was with the note though?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”, she said with a smirk.

“You’re weird.”

“No, I’m Moody.”

“You’re what?”, he asked confused.

“My name is Moody. Blaire Moody. Gets them every time”, she said clearly enjoying herself.

“Well it definitely suits you. I’m Pippin Reardon but people call me Pip or Pain.”

She let out a laugh. “No way! So Pain Reardon? That must sit really well with the ladies”, she remarked with mirth. “Any who, where are you travelling to? No, wait, let me guess, Cuthbert?”

“Actually no. I’m on my way to Albany. Great Aunt feels sad and the great niece is swooping in to be the hero.”

“There is a great pun in there somewhere” she said smugly.

He paused to take a look at her. She looked in her mid twenties, wore a flowing blue dress with an even deeper shade of blue for a shawl. Her short brunette hair matched her eyes and her jet black kitten heels.

“Are you this free with everyone or am I just the exception?”, Pain inquired with a playful tease in his voice.

“Oh, don’t kid yourself. My new year’s resolutions for this year were, one, that I would be more socially active, and two, that I would stop lying or at least try very hard to do so.”

“So you have stopped lying since this year?


“Okay. Lets start with something basic, like, what is your age?”

“Twenty one.”

“I pegged you in your late twenties. Moving on, what is your greatest fear?”

“That escalated quickly. Hmm, getting pushed off a huge cliff by some animal, probably a baboon.”

“That is so unusual! But yes, I suppose that would be just terrifying. Are we single?”, he inquired almost raising his eyebrow.

“Well yes, I am.”, she said with no hesitancy in her voice.

“Cats or Dogs?”

“Only puppies.”

“Would you rather live with only one arm or only listen to one song for the rest of your life?”

“Oh, definitely live with one arm. Also how cool would it be to flip off people with your whole arm? Now that I think about it, it might not work so flawlessly.”

“Yeah, just stick to your fingers for now, Moody.”

She gave a wry smile and proceeded to hunt in her purse for something. Moments later her hands contained a small brown leather strapped diary and a purple pen.

At last. The purple pen.

“What is that?”, inquired Pain, his curiosity giving way.

“The most precious thing to me. Meet Emma. I share everything that is important to me or worth remembering, to her. There is nothing that Emma does not know about dear old Blaire.”

Pain just paused a second before claiming, “Excellent! Me and Emma should get acquainted real soon then and discuss the lady in question”.

“Oh, that won’t be happening anytime soon. Emma is quite reserved you see? She only ever talks to me.”, replied Blaire and started scribbling what looked like ‘notes of description’ to Pain, in an acerbic manner.

Pain wanted nothing more than to know what she was jotting down ever so quickly, but he feared his eagerness might be interpreted as neediness. So he decided to wait.

And then wait some more.



5 thoughts on “The Purple Pen

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