A haunted pencil is not merely a tool 
it is a conduit
It carries 
the whispers of forgotten ideas
the weight of unspoken words
the echoes of past creations
It moves 
with an unseen presence
sketching lines that seem to breathe
shift
and 
pulse with hidden life

.
.
.

a woman's face half of which is a skull holding her index finger to her lips as if to say whisper

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