Inkwell Spotlight: ‘In Defense of My Mistake’ Eleanor Sgaramella October 19, 2016 The house was dark. The inky kind of dark, that makes it seem as though you’re looking at the world through your eyelids. And I was tired and shaky. I tried to peel back the shadows like stickers but they would not come off the waxy page, and I felt my knees cracking against each other while I blindly walked. Then I fell. And metal strings tangled into my hair, while glossy splinters coated my thighs, and I was on the ground. I struggled as the hollow body held my limbs, vines reaching for my curls, but gave in and submitted to its tinny prison, until light flooded the house again. That morning I faced my acoustic-attacker, and the damage was too much. So I’m sorry I broke your guitar, and I’m not coming back. Leave a Reply Cancel Reply Connect with: Your email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website