Ink Init

it was a strange day and an eqaly stange place  on westmister brige stood a man he was silver haied very dark skinned he wore a long thick  black coat pinstriped trousers in one  hand he held a old  style leather brief case along with a blue plastic  carrier bag he caught my atetion becouse with his othher hand he was seaching his pockets so franticly  it seemed hed lost his keys or mabey even his walet, he placed his briefcase on the wall riffled through it then grabed the low bridge wall palms down in obviously fraught manner.by  now i was close enough to detect the aroma  of cigars andi think mabey brandy..  
are you ok was all that i said he turned slowly hands still on the wall a human being woderfull he replide he raised his head sharply to reveal the most tiered eyes i had ever seen like a ocean of  pure strength  frozen  hard ..


human being im glad to meet you im  looking for a very special bottle of ink you see my hand has weakend with age and my desk is old and worn
the parchment upon whitch i write is as granite to  a quill each word  placed as a child or seed

human come closer my eyes arnt what they used to be ....the ink is the only thing that makes anything possible . and i mean anything i started to open my mouth to ask him what his job was ...shhh human the ink is as an ochestra birdsong for the deaf or a rainbowed eclipse to the blind ..i wanted to leave but everthing he said was echoing in my head ..now he faced he and smiled and said you must find this ink it is the in the world and i have writen and dwawn with this ink from the start.
for  all to see and read ...ohhh is it called indian ink

he smiled warmley then said this ink runs though the veins of every living thing from the depths  of the sea to the moutains and beyond is for that ink for wich i search is  hear and found in you again he smiled and softly said African Ink is red at that point a small gust of wind  cought the blue carrier bag lifting it high  i turned my head back and it had  only been mabey two seconds and the old man was nowhare to be seen and i stood on that bridge and gazzed up beyond the buildings to the birds and clouds sky and felt all below it as one ,and knew i was loved

eyecanbee1 eyecanbee1
36-40, M
1 Response Feb 11, 2009

This is an amazing story. I love how you so vividly described an everyday scene and then took it somewhere magical. I love what it says about gods and the universe and reality. Thank you for sharing it.