They said he was different. His style of music, his way of dressing, his tone of language, his attitude and the way he stared at people blankly when they said hello. But there was something else: he liked counting. He counted how many books he had since he could read, he counted how many steps it took from the bus stop to his place, how many days, months or years since his last visit overseas but there was another thing he liked to count: he counted lines. In fact, he drew these lines himself but he didn't need a ruler. Sometimes they were thick, sometimes thin. Often straight but never crooked. The pencil he used was always sharp, drawing neat, straight lines. But here's a question for you: what do you do with a pencil to make the line thicker?
You use more pressure, right?
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