I sit down to write and as I feel the onyx pen in my hand, my mind drifts off to days when the world was in love. The gentle way men bowed to women and everyone dripped poetry from their tongues. I think of sword fights and duels to defend one’s honor. Or forbidden love letters written by candle light.Footprints of words left behind in an act of permanence only to never be seen again.
A sound brings me back to the present as I believe I hear movement. I glance over to the bed, he lies perfectly still. Once more I begin to write and the ink shines like new leaves. The pen is heavy in my hand. It rests between my thumb and finger like an enervated child rests their head on a parent’s shoulder. As I pour the confessional words from my heart onto paper, the ink flows out of the nib like blood. I smile thinking how fitting.
When I am done, I walk over and place the note next to him. I kiss his lips one last time and pull my hand down to shut his eyes to assure he can rest in peace.
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This was written for my friend Al’s Sunday Photo Fiction writing prompt. I have not written one of these in quite a long time but when I noticed the picture, I couldn’t refuse. I have an absolute love and obsession with fountain pens.
This is the photo we were to use for inspiration. You take the image and write whatever your heart desires with a 200 word minimum. Al is so kind and never scolds me the times I went over. š
Inked Peacock Tales 
A great and sad story. I remember when the world was in love. It was a great time and you could leave a key hanging through the letterbox.
I’m glad you decided to write for this one š
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Thank you, Al. It was the perfect picture. I was telling Michael, my mind is filled with words and trying to push them all out.
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I’ve been having that with my book. That and the fact that my laptop won’t stop crashing. I can only get a little way in and it goes off again. It’s been stable for a couple of days so far, but that will change soon lol.
Having a mid filled with words can be a pain as you want to get them out, but they all rush at the same time and make no sense whatsoever.
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I always think my words never make sense. š
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This is a very good story and the wording is fantastic š
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Awww thank you.
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Reminds me of one of my poems. https://anadmiringblog.wordpress.com/…/17/the-signature/
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Full link:
https://anadmiringblog.wordpress.com/2016/07/17/the-signature/
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“Hello, Anya. Nice to find you again. I’ve been thinking of you and wondering if you were back on line. (I have another personae you know far better.),” she said.
“I liked the way in which the flow began and ended — the ebb and flow of love and life.”
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Hello…..do I get a hint as to who your other personae is that I know better??
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“You may remember Phylor who liked your fairy tale prompts. I wasn’t trying to be secretive.”
“I don’t leave my space much these days — just seemed like I should see where ink drops lead.”
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Awwww yes. I remember well. š So happy to see you again.
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I echo the above thought about being good to see you back. You have a very unique lyrical style about your writing and I have missed it This piece is delightful to meditate on.
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š and always nice to hear from an old friend. I am happy to find my words again.
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Well a little at a time and away you go again…
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Slowly getting there. A lot of life stuff changed and I have time again.
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Well that’s good for you.I saw you were doing a lot of study so is that finished?
Oh and enough of the old stuff, I’m just a tad older than the last time…
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I’m still in school but I was dealing with a lot of other things like my mom’s health and normal life issues.
I believe you are still older than me
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Ok, hope your mom is doing ok..its our lot isn’t it with aging parents to do what we can for them.
I am sadly older than many but nothing another lifetime wouldn’t fix…..lol
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I’m still young at heart š
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That’s my argument too…. š
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Very sad but a very enjoyable read.
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Gentle, romantic piece with a sting in the tail.
Superbly done.
Lovely to see you back at your creative best.
Hugs
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Thank you. š Shouldn’t you be asleep?
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Sad but written with feeling and lovely words. I keep wondering what he did that caused her to put an end to him. Good writing, Anja. —- Suzanne
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Nearly every night, I wrote my mate what amounted to love letters. Nearly every night. I don’t think I ever got any in return. In retrospect, I should have seen the breakup coming.
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