The guilty pencil

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “The Guilt that Haunts Me.”

When I was little, maybe 7 or 8, I stole a pencil. Even saying it now makes me feel riddled with guilt…

Me? Steal?! I mean technically, I didn’t even steal it, it was a “take any pencil you like” box, but still. I took the blue pencil with orange hands on it, and I went to sleep. Not only did I wake up several times during the night, but I came into school early (a major commitment for 8 year old me), just to put it back.

I would make a truly awful burglar…


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