I'm going to do something creative

One quiet afternoon, Erik sat at his wooden table with his old, trusty sketchbook. It was one of those days when you think, "I'm going to do something creative." So he picked up his pencil, twirled it a bit between his fingers, and began to draw.

First a head…
Then a body…
A little shadow here…
A few lines there…

Slowly, a little man appeared on the paper. A walking figure, as if he'd just stepped out of a story. Erik nodded, satisfied.

"Not bad," he mumbled. "He even looks a bit like me."

But then something strange happened.

The drawn shoe moved.

Erik frowned. "That must be the coffee."

Then the other shoe moved too.

And before Erik could properly react, the figure literally stepped out of the paper. First one foot, then the other, with a small pouf of pencil dust.

The man was now standing on the sketchbook and looking around.

"Wow," he said, stretching his back. "That was a long walk… and I hadn't even started yet."

Erik almost dropped his pencil.
"Wait a minute… you… you just came out of my drawing!"

The little man nodded cheerfully.
"Right. Very neat pencil lines, by the way. Good shading, too. I give it an 8.5."

Erik stared at him.

The man glanced to the left, to the right, and then back at Erik.

"Um… quick question."

"Yes?" said Erik, still bewildered.

The sketched man leaned forward slightly.

"Could you maybe… draw a woman for me?"

Erik blinked.
"A woman?"

"Yes," said the little man. "Look, you drew me neatly, shoes, pants, everything… but a person can hardly live their whole life just on a sketchbook."

He glanced around at the pencil shavings on the table.

"The company here is, frankly, rather… wooden."

Erik started laughing.
"So you just came to life… and the first thing you ask for is a girlfriend?"

The little man shrugged.

"Priorities, my friend. Priorities."

Erik picked up his pencil again.

"Okay then," he said. "But no complaints about the haircut afterward."

The little man sat enthusiastically on the edge of the paper.

"Don't worry," he said.
"If she comes to life too… I'll ask her if she's happy."

And so Erik sat there, laughing at his table, while a little living man sat next to the pencil, waiting…

…for the drawing of the love of his life.