Patiently poised, I press and produce precise permanent prose. Eagerly etching expressions, empty of error, every emotion exposed. Nib navigating notebooks, neatly noting narratives new.

In the cradle of salt and sand, a whispering spiral tells tales of distant waves. A souvenir from Poseidon's realm, capturing the ocean's lullaby.

Plunging head first downhill, made of calcium probably

You will never find your needle with all the sneezing.

Horses and people both wear these. Worn year round for most. Gravel hurts without these!