It's blank.

Nothing on it. That's disappointing but, it's good quality paper. Might as well use it. 

You touch the tip of the pen to it. The paper seems to hum with an energy, an aliveness almost. It's like it's eager for your words. 

But here is the dreaded writers block. You don't know what to write. It feels like there is a pressure on you to use it well. Don't waste the ink. Don't make a mistake on the soft, thick paper. 

Looking out of the window you see the stars. Each one twinkling like an eye looking down, or a sequin on a dress, or a dream too far away to reach.

An idea!

The End

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