Pencil: I’m sorry. Eraser: For what? You didn’t do anything wrong. Pencil: I’m sorry, you get hurt because of me. Whenever I made a mistake, you’re always there to erase it. But as you make my mistakes vanish, you lose a part of yourself and get smaller and smaller each time. Eraser: That’s true, but I don’t really mind. You see, I was made to do this, I was made to help you whenever you do something wrong, even though …