Im not sure where the pens and pencils go until they magically show up in all the wrong places. But I have a theory. There must be a parallel universe where misappropriated writing implements go while awaiting their final assignment to the floor or the couch cushions or the bottom of the washing machine having fallen out of a pair of newly ink-stained blue jeans.
Its the same universe where lurk the matching socks to all those strays that emerge from the dryer as orphans.
If I could find the key to unlock that universe, Id be wealthy man. Id open a store at the mall and call it Oh there it is
Fat chance of me unlocking that universe though. I cant even find my car keys.
Howling at the Moon appears regularly in Denton Publications newspapers. When Mike Mender isnt searching high and low for misplaced adjectives, he may be reached via email at email@example.com