Penmanship was always my favorite class. There was a fountain pen and a bottle of Skrip ink, usually black. The ink bottle had a little curved shelf on its inside where the ink could gather. Put the nib of the fountain pen in and suck the ink with a lever on the side of the pen. All this while sitting at a wood desk placed in rows by Mrs. Manocchio, my fifth grade teacher.
Trying to keep the ink between the lines of the paper, I made continuous circles round and round practicing to hold the pen in comfort, to get use to the flow of the nib. Prepare the hand to loop and turn and form letters, then words, a complete sentence and the ultimate paragraph. I was learning cursive writing with just the right slant and height of the i, dotted in just the right place between the lines, forming the perfect penmanship.
recall school days
labored for words on paper
ink dot on the snow
dVerse prompt on handwriting which is becoming a lost art