the neglected fountain pen
the journal of Michael Werneburg
twenty-eight years and a million words
Toronto, 2017.11.29
During the height of the craziness when I was doing my masters degree, my brother gave me a fountain pen. I seem to have set it aside in a pen-holder on my desk ever since. Some three years later, I've picked it up at last.
It had a lot of dried ink inside the nib and whatever you call the part that holds that. I was cleaning it and realized how much ink there really was still in the system. Took it to work to use through the day to use up the re-watered ink and it wrote all day. And it writes wonderfully! I've now picked up some ink cartridges, and have started writing letters. Woohoo!