The Inkwell

It was a rainy day, the day that I met her.

The sun rose and began its languid trip around the sky. Its light stretched among the woods, finding hidden spaces, covering others in new…

“So there were three of them?” she asked.

The first thing I heard was a machine-like whirring noise and then a hiss as the pod opened.

The sun was warm in the little forest glen where I’d been living for the last year or so.

The man sat at the same chair he’d been sitting in his whole career. It was old, like him, and made of wood, just like the desk at which…

It started that night like most other nights.

I came home after a long shift.

Night 1:

There are days.

He looked out over the cliff from their mountain home at the edge of existence.

The fire crackled and the night was dark.

“Let’s go. Let’s go. Let’s go,” I said as I waited out front in the car.

The weather was cold. Even with the sun, the air had a bite to it.

I sat down in front of the large wooden desk. The leather was warm and comfortable and much better than the seat of the pickup truck I’d…

In the spot that exists at the very edge of existence that is not bound by neither time nor space. It was a place so old it is not bound…

The guard moved ever so slightly to the side so as to block the sun from her eyes.

The Blackthorn was dark but the music was good.

The old car was louder than I thought it would be.

It was supposed to be a good day.

There was a great assembly in the town square.

I’d done it.

She turned in bed and reached over to see if he was there. The bed was still warm where his body was.

The most powerful being in the universe walked down the small town sidewalk, past a bookstore and cafe, and entered little studio that…

John only knew three things.

I found the old home at the outskirts of town. It was harder to find than I thought. All I had was an old business card with an address…