No. 2's Plight

No. 2 lay on his side next to the others. It would be his turn after the other one was finished. He was not looking forward to it. He would probably be trembling in fear or try to roll away if he were able to move. But he couldn’t. He had to stay there and listen to the machine’s grinding and scraping of wood against metal, waiting for the next victim. One of the others in the group probably read his fear, for he said, “Don’t worry, it doesn’t hurt at all.” Then No. 2 was lifted by a large hand and his head was stuck inside the circular hole of the contraption. He waited to feel pain. He was turned around and around against the metal and plastic, and to his surprise, it really didn’t hurt. The other No. 2 was right. Soon he was sat back on the table along with the shaven No. 2’s. “You’re looking pretty sharp,” one of them said. No. 2 beamed. He liked his new sharpened lead. His pencil friends were right, he did need a shave.