She had left it on his desk, next to a cup of pens and the small stuffed penguin he had won for her at the fair. It was a plastic cup overfilled with paperclips, which he found was useless. Simply a few would suffice, he kept telling her.
But she wouldn’t throw any away.
When she became too stressed or entered her over-thinking period, she would pour them out of the cup and lay them on the table, playing around with shapes and forms. It would de-stress her and time would pass, distracting her and calming her down. Simple. Vital.
Also part of Friday Fictioneers