Anne Frank

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My fountain pen was always one of my most prized possessions...
...I valued it highly, especially because it had a thick nib, and I can only write neatly with thick nibs.
It has led a long and interesting fountain pen-life, which I will summarize below:
When I was nine, my fountain pen arrived as a "sample of no commercial value" all the way from Aachen, where my grandmother used to live.
FRAGILE
I lay in the with the flu, while the February winds howled around the apartment house.
This splendid fountain pen came in a red leather case, and I showed it to my girlfriends the first chance I got. Me, Anne Frank, the proud owner of a fountain pen.
When I was ten, I was allowed to take the pen to school and to my surprise, the teacher even let me write with it.
When I was eleven, however, my treasure had to be tucked away again, because my sixth-grade teacher allowed us to use only school pens and inkpods.
It was just after five on Friday afternoon. I came out of my room and was about to sit down at the table to write when I was roughly pushed to one side to make room for Margot and Father, who wanted to practice their Latin.

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