Simple, refined beauty from the time fountain pens were cherished tools. Very few adornments – just exquisite shape, materials and attention to function. Both come from, roughly, the same era and were probably made in the mid-1940s and came to me used, which in itself intrigues the mind. What had they been up to before ending up with me? What could they write about themselves if they could? What parts of the European history of the 20th century have they written a part of? I’ll never know, but I do know they’ll continue to write a part of my life.
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