Ink (Micro-Fiction Monday)

Every Monday, I post a piece of flash fiction--a story clocking in at around 300 words. Each story can also be found on my deviantART and Wattpad pages. Enjoy!

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Pens were her thing. Gell pens, quil pens, ball point pens, black pens, blue pens, sparkly pens, pens that looked professional and pens that looked like they were retrieved as a prize in a cereal box. She collected all pens of all sizes. She had more pens than one could use in a lifetime.

She made a point to use each pen at least once, but never let them die. Before the beautiful ink could fade away, she would tuck it safely among the others, moving on to a new colour, a new brand, a new texture. She had plenty to choose from; she was never lacking.

She wrote with her pens, and she drew with her pens. Her pens formed stories that reached the very brink of her imagination; the rough scratches shaped into wings that carried her far above the clouds, and the heads of dragons that became her companions.

She tried to draw on her own skin, to bring her fantasies into the real world. All that resulted were faded markings that wouldn't come off, no matter how hard she scrubbed. She covered these markings up--because just like the ink on the pages, these stories of hers were sacred. For her eyes only.
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Until later,

- Justyne