Every summer, for one glorious stretch, the ocean gets our full attention. We clear the evenings, we develop strong opinions about which documentary is best, and we grow a brief but sincere respect for anything with that many teeth. So we made a pen for it.
Open Water's lower barrel is a soft gray that deepens toward the tip, and a great white cuts across it in real detail, mouth open, like she owns the place, which, in her defense, she does. Up top, a clear chamber holds a scatter of crystals, clear with a few the pale blue of the shallows, and a charcoal gem caps the end. Silver hardware keeps it cool and clean. It's the pen you pick up to sign something perfectly ordinary and feel a little bit dangerous doing it.
She's beautiful, a little unexpected, and very easy to want.
The water's fine.
