Breadwinner

We live in a society of people who love to compete. Through sports teams, and social status, through job promotions and resume fillers, and even through what we look like and how others feel about us. Wanting...

The Night-Owl Across the Street

Tonight, my faceless friend, you have beaten me. From my window I can see the dark place upon your upper floor, where, on so many nights, I have seen your curtained lamplight winking back at me. At times,...

The Metaphorical Man

His hands are heat, soothing and burning in the same instance. His eyes are jagged ice, sculpted into the face of an angel. His voice is salt, flavorful in a pinch, overpowering in a spoonful. His...

Inkwell Spotlight: ‘The Sailing Wife’

Some carve a stone, some leave a wreath, some light a candle, and some shed tears at the sight of a plaque for those beneath. But, when I fall to reveries of the sound of her voice, or the curve of her...

Inkwell Spotlight: ‘Resilient’

From the warmth and certainty of a true home, Into a new world of uncertainty and blank pages. From friendships hard fought for, and the peace of a second family, Into a flurry of names and faces that...

Inkwell Spotlight: ‘Running Pace’

Run. Run. Run. I see no one else. I feel just the wind on my face. The world is gone, just one breath and one more and one more. My feet slam the road, they pound in time to the beat of my heart. In, then...

Inkwell Spotlight: ‘Mist’

I stepped out of the worn down yellow cab, into a white darkness. For a minute, the headlight beams exploded into fractals as they tried to pierce through the fog cloud that was the island in front of me, but...

Inkwell Spotlight: ‘Haircut’

Today there was a new voice inside my head, one which I didn’t recognize from the usual plethora of mindless chittering that usually spreads itself within my mind. Made curious by this newcomer, I set about...

Inkwell Spotlight: ‘Last Sunrise’

We stayed up all night to watch the sunrise. That is my last memory of her. After that night, things stopped mattering; life became a little less interesting, and the words that had once filled my pages so...

Inkwell Spotlight: ‘Pain’

On nights when the bite of darkness and the howl of wind are too great for sleep, There is a story which the old woman would tell to make the children wary of the night.   It started as a fairy...