The Shim (part 1)
The boy dropped his pen and sighed. Today he didn't want to come to his mind. For at least five minutes he sat at his desk and didn't want any His attic room was always perfectly suited to writing letters to him. Every week he looked forward to it. Never longer than one page, of course. Never exaggerate, he had learned.
He waved agile with his Put his arms on the back and his chin on his hands. This position, if alone, he liked to take. It was not lazy, but not too active. He kept staring at himself for minutes. No one would know what was going on, while Of course, this reminded of the man to which he devoted his words every time.
Suddenly he turned abruptly, unintentionally, made a jump, landed again on his chair and began to write eagerly.
 
