The story of a Sheet of Paper

Once upon a time, in a faraway land, there was an enchanted paper factory.
The factory produced paper for all the greatest kingdoms on Earth, and all the scribes called it the finest writing paper that ever existed.

Many people worked at the factory, but inexplicably, even though a lot of paper was sold, the workers were not paid very well. So, sometimes, they were forced to secretly take a piece of paper to sell at the market to earn a little extra money.

One day, a worker made a sheet of paper from the leftover mixtures used in paper production. He planned to sell it at the market for a penny or two. Because it was made from different blends and scraps, the sheet turned out to have a strange, blueish color and an unusual texture—smooth in some places, rough in others. It was an odd sheet, unlike the highly praised paper usually produced by the factory.

The worker easily smuggled the sheet of paper out of the factory since it hardly looked like their typical paper. The next day, he went to the market.

Finding a buyer was difficult, as everyone complained about its color or texture. They had many excuses: it would be hard to write on, it might absorb too much ink, and so on. Few people had reasons to buy it.

Eventually, a poor old man bargained hard with the worker and bought the odd paper. He took it home to his large library, filled with scrolls and sheets of paper, planning to add the newly bought sheet to his collection after writing on it.

When the sheet was written on for the first time, it felt as though it came to life, discovering its purpose through the flowing black lines. This filled it with an endless sense of peace. The words and story written on it fascinated the sheet, convincing it there was nothing more wonderful in the world than what it had just learned.

After finishing his writing, the old man set the sheet aside and moved on to other pleasant tasks that filled his evenings. But the next day, he was faced with an astonishing discovery: the story he had written the night before had completely vanished, and the sheet was blank again, just as when he had bought it.

The sheet, too, was overwhelmed by a deep sense of uncertainty and sadness. Its story, which had made it so happy and given it meaning, had disappeared overnight, leaving it feeling lost and confused.

The old man, puzzled but certain he had indeed written the story, decided to write it again, believing it couldn’t possibly vanish a second time. That would be absurd.
Alas, to his disbelief, the strange sheet was blank again the next morning. Convinced that something unnatural was at play and that the sheet was cursed, the old man threw it away.

Now discarded, unwritten upon, and bearing the scars of lost words, the sheet was left wondering why it was different. Why did stories vanish from its surface?

The sheet passed through the hands of several people, each writing on it, but the words, lists, and stories never stayed. It was repeatedly discarded and abandoned, blaming itself for its uniqueness.

All of this changed one day when a peculiar gentleman picked it up from the ground. From the very first glance, he could tell this sheet was unlike any other.

The man carefully studied the paper’s texture—sometimes smooth, sometimes rough—and its wavy colors, paying close attention to all the blends that composed it. When the time came to write, he wrote on the strange sheet a story about a sheet of paper.

The man fully embraced the unique characteristics of the sheet. He used different inks for different sections, matching the colors of the paper. He chose pens that glided smoothly over the fine areas or others that left bold marks on the rough parts.

The sheet was fascinated by the story written on it—it was its own story. Somehow, its misunderstood story had finally become clear, with a happy ending. Still, it feared that all happy endings disappeared the next day, so it anxiously waited for sunrise to see what would happen.

Morning came, and to the paper’s surprise, the story written by the meticulous and patient man remained intact. At last, it had found its story, filling it with infinite peace and wonder.

The sheet realized that even unusual and uniquely blended sheets could have their stories written, and that their tales could endure.