A Clean Sheet

Three sheets of white paper lay on a shelf. One could not say they were impeccably clean. On the first stood a large ink blot. True, it was not visible—the sheet was turned over to its other side and seemed absolutely untouched. On the second sheet in the corner were some marks drawn in red pencil, and on the third—right in the center—a dot had been placed in simple pencil.

When no one was in the room, the first sheet of paper turned to the second and said arrogantly: — Just look at this monstrosity! That third sheet is worthless! — Yes, yes! — the second sheet hastily agreed and irritably began to ponder: — It's simply horrible—right in the center… That dot… If the dot were somewhere in the corner of the sheet, one could occasionally tolerate it. But just look at it—and that disgusting fat dot right in the very middle of the sheet immediately catches the eye. It ruins everything! Oh, how it all irritates me! That sheet should be thrown in the trash immediately. — Esteemed neighbor, — the sheet with the blot picked up the thought, — I have been observing it for a long time. So here's what I'll tell you in confidence: that leaf is not fit for anything. That dot in the center is monstrous. I even conducted an experiment! And here's what I discovered: if, without blinking, you stare long and intently at that dot, it begins to grow to the size of—you won't believe it—to the size of a b-l-o-t! And this is no joke! — Really?! So that's what I've been thinking. Sneaked in among us. Pretended to be a clean white sheet. Well, not a sheet—but an angel! And we, like simpletons, tolerate it. To the trash with such! — That's just what I say. Where does our master look?! Some sheets with such marks showed up here among us, so clean and worthy, suitable for any noble use, and doesn't even say a word…

It's unknown how this conversation could have continued, but the master entered the room. He needed a clean sheet of paper. He took the first upper sheet and was about to go to his writing desk to do his work on it, but turned it over in his hands and saw a large ink blot. The sheet was immediately thrown into the waste bin. The next sheet with its marks the master, without much thought, cut in half with scissors, throwing away the marked half to follow the first sheet into the trash, and put the clean half in a drawer. Then he reached for the third sheet with the dot in the center. He took it, turned it over in his hands and said with satisfaction: — At last, I found at least one clean sheet! He sat at his writing desk and began his work on the sheet he deemed suitable.