Writing

Edward stared at the swift movements of the pencil's sharp point on the paper: how that black thing could leave signs on the sheet, he didn't know, but he knew that the action was called 'to write'. And hands were needed, not scissors and blades.

"What are you writing Kim?" he asked, interested.

She lifted her gaze from the book: "Oh, that's just a maths exercise".

Edward was uncertain: "Can people write something else?"

"Let's see; you can write plenty of things… actually anything you can say can also be put on a paper sheet. Letters, homework, shopping lists, journalists write news for papers, writers write novels and stories of every type" she explained.

"Have you ever written a story, Kim?" he asked more suddenly than she thought he was able to.

Kim bought the back of the pencil to her lips while thinking: "Yeah.. yes, once I had to write about snow for a school test: I wrote that it snows because maybe there is a man up there constantly cutting ice!" she giggled at her own childishness and gestured the sky.

Edward turned in the direction she had pointed and out of the window he looked at the clouds, eyes wide in wonder a shy smile on his lips: "I've never considered it before…".