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Literature Text
Marilyn tidied up the appartment under a thundercloud, wishing Matt would die in a fire rather than come back, until she walked through the hall with a bottle of india ink in her hand. He had left his best-beloved suede jacket on the coat rack.
This was much better. She would hear him scream.
This was much better. She would hear him scream.
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It's nanofiction. It'S supposed to be short.
Based on the prompt "Ink" that I got from ~ellenmillion
Based on the prompt "Ink" that I got from ~ellenmillion
© 2010 - 2024 ankewehner
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I think I might have already commented this on LJ. I forget.
In any case, it's still awesome
In any case, it's still awesome