Eraser : For what? You didn’t do anything wrong.

Pencil : I’m sorry because 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. You get smaller and smaller each time.

Eraser : That’s true. But I don’t mind. You see, I was made to do this. I was made to help. But whether or not you are making a mistake, as long as you are working, you are becoming shorter too.