School Prompt: Look around you and write a story about something in your house.

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I had become small over the years. Very small. I used to be much larger than this, but I had been used many times throughout my time of existence. I was content though; I had served my purpose as an eraser. Erasing pencil marks and seeing many new places was enjoyable. I knew I would disappear soon, but who knew? Maybe I would be trashed, like other erasers.

Being picked up, I closed my imaginary eyes and felt myself rub against paper once more. I would stop being of use to the person soon, so I enjoyed that while it lasted. I felt myself get smaller than I already was, measuring a centimeter cubed. The human looked at me, and seemed surprised for some reason. The time had come. I was used a bit more and finally reduced to a mere eraser shred. I was lifted up, seeing a final great view of my home, and then dropped into a small, paper box.

A year had passed. It was finally the day I would see outside the box again. The lid of the paper box opened, and fingers pinched me and a few other eraser shreds up. A younger human's face came into view. Who was she? Her face seemed different too. The more familiar human looked at us at a distance with pity in her eyes. Was it really time for me to be of use again?

We were suddenly swung towards a pile of other eraser shreds and dropped shortly before being squashed beneath a hand. Us eraser shreds were mushed together, forming a recycled eraser that was easy to fall apart. We were then put into some different kind of eraser: eraser putty. Firmly stuck together now, we could not see the outside, nor could we see faces. We were enclosed within the strange eraser.

From then on, we were used by the younger human. We would be squished many times by her fingers and rarely be used for erasing at all. I had thought I would be more like the eraser the older human made, but I guess we would never be like that. Farewell, old times.

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Goodbye, old eraser. I wish you luck.