Нина Стефанович - Fairy Tales about Pencils

Translator Юлия Павловна Шатова

© Нина Стефанович, 2018

© Юлия Павловна Шатова, translation, 2018

ISBN 978-5-4493-4253-9

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

In a huge store in one large box there lived pencils. All of them on one hand were the same: the same length, the same thickness, and they lived in the same box. But on the other hand they were very different. They all were absolutely of different colors. And each of them had their own dreams and fantasies. What character do you think the red-color pencil had? He thought of himself that he is the most important and most beautiful. All the time, even when he stayed in a box, a Red Pencil wanted to color everything by him alone: leaves, grass, trees and even people’s faces. Do you know what color the grass should be? But Red Pencil didn’t stop, being active. He could not stay without activity. He was already drawing something, and it seemed that the picture is being formed, but the other pencils usually did not admire of Red one. A Green Pencil rebelled:

– It is completely not for you to color the grass, leaves and trees. You’re plainly not meant for this. Here I am who would gladly color the roofs and fences, and everything that you can’t to. I will necessarily invent a new way how to color water and pool as well.

– So it’s going to be just a marsh, – said Blue one, – Do not color the water in green. May be you think that a river is green too? – He was indignant at that moment, though he was calm and good-tempered.

A Pink Pencil liked drawing as well. Pink is almost red, but not so,

more soft and light then red, it combines passion and purity. It is associated with romance, femininity, freshness, refinement and tenderness. All his life he were spending in a world of dreams and expectation of miracles.

– The spring will come soon and I would color the twigs of cherry blossoms, Sakura benches. And I would make gifts; everyone will have a bouquet of tender crocuses. I will do my best. I want not only to blush the cheeks of kids, but also to feel how they do love me. And I could probably meet the real love. So I’d wait for it. And you are all so bad; no one loves me between you.

– What a delicate flower, – said irritated Red. – Just do your job and do not prevent others to make history.

– Oh, Red Pencil, all you can do is to foist yourself to everyone and his cousin, – stood up for Pink Pencil the Orange one. – I like the Pinky very much, – he said pretending.

He was hypocritical, because he wanted at least somebody to be benevolent to him: he knew that Pink Pencil was kind enough. Orange Pencil noticed Pink, just because his impermanence in opinion, did not allow him to build a strong friendships. Orange pencil was very talented, and he was very popular among kids. Just even the coloring of the oranges is worth.

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