“The pens… the pencils… the paper… look… I’ve been writing,” I said to him, taking my wet hands out of the fridge again. Water began to drip onto the mess of paper on the kitchen bench.
“What are these squiggles? What on earth have you been doing?”
He started to grab my little hurricanes and patterns of graphite, crumple them up, and throw them at me.
From a short story entitled “Scribbles” by Macedonian writer Rumena Bužarovska and translated by Will Firth.
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Photo – Calligraphy by Jan Van De Velde; from Spieghel der schrijfkonste, Rijksmuseum Amsterdam, 1605
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