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An autobiography of a pen
I was manufactured in a factory five years ago. After I was
made, the “cross” was engraved on me. I was packed in a
pretty box. Then I was put into a large box together with
the other pens. We were happy together and spent a
wonderful time talking to each other. I was transported to a
large department store. I was taken out of my box and
placed in the display tray along with other pens of different
brands.
I was on display for only a short period. A grand old lady
came to the store one day. She was looking for a gift. She
bought me and presented me to a girl named Mary. Mary
is a student and used me daily to do her school work. She
took good care of me. She always wiped me clean after
using me and placed me neatly in the box. She was very
gentle with me and never handled me roughly. I admired
my mistress and served her well.
My happiness did not last long. One day her grandmother
bought her another pen. She stopped using me, and put
me in my box. I am now stored away in her drawer. I live
in the dark corner of the drawer hoping that one day she
might use me again.
An autobiography of a butterfly
I am a beautiful Monarch butterfly. My name is Jolly. My
mother laid some eggs on the leaf of a milkweed plant.
After several days we hatched into tiny black and white