The Fountain Pen

Facebook and email were great time savers.  Nowadays the only time Barb wrote long hand was in response to hand written letters that she received from her Aunt in Florida and her old college roommate who lives in California.  Barb thought the mysterious fountain pen that she had recieved may have come from one of them, but they both denied it when Barb had asked them.

The pen had arrived in an unmarked box. Barb found it sitting next to her front door when she returned home from work.  Inside the cardboard box was a birthday card that was signed with only a smiley face and a small gift wrapped box containing the pen.

Based on her research on the internet, the pen appeared to be an original iridium nib German made fountain pen circa 1920, as compared to the much more common and cheaply made pens from China at that time that were unabashedly engraved "Iridium Nib Germany".

Barb asked everyone she could think of if they knew anything about the pen, but no one had a clue.  Shortly after receiving the pen Barb received a letter from her Aunt in Florida talking about what a difficult time she was having with her Bronchitis.  Barb ended her return letter with "Hope you feel better", which she never connected, understandably so, to the next letter she got back from her Aunt which said that not only was she over the bronchitis but unexplainably her arthritis had gone away completely.  She felt better than she had in years.

It wasn't until after she sent out Christmas cards, written with the fountain pen, which all ended with "Have a Great New Year", that a more noticeable oddity occurred.  As the new year progressed Barb had heard an increasing number of stories of good fortune from her family and friends; promotions, new jobs, improved marriages, new found loves, and her cousin Frank won the lottery.  Everyone, I mean everyone, seemed to be having a great new year.  Barb was unsettled but still did not quite put things together.

It was on her vacation to Aruba, when Barb had used the pen to send post cards, all of which ended with "Wish You Were Here", that Barb could no longer deny that there was something unnerving about the pen because the next day everyone she had sent a postcard to began showing up in Aruba.

Barb was mystified, almost horrified.  With untold anxiety Barb began to consider what she would do, what she would write, with the pen.  When her Aunt came up to her Barb murmured quivically "What... what are you doing here?".  Her Aunt replied, "How could you possibly not know?  You cousin Frank bought this trip for all of us with his lottery winnings."