The Ink

ink

I opened up a book and the words fell out. It was cold and windy and from a storefront reflection, I could see the surprised look on my face. Inky fine print flew from the page. Jumbled. Tossed. It mixed together like salad.

I tried to gather them as fast as I could. Their shape, their letters, their voice was too slippery. Wet rubbery ink littered the streets with sayings. Their sentences bounced against the ears of pedestrians.

“Love I’m sorry lost stopwatch.” I tried to make sense of a stray sentence down the block, but the words had become tangled. Their letters were loose and their punctuation was damned. I squinted, but their meaning was lost.

Book Review on Unfaithful Music & Disappearing Ink: http://www.nytimes.com/2015/10/09/books/review-elvis-costellos-unfaithful-music-disappearing-ink-a-memoir.html

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13 thoughts on “The Ink

  1. You gotta watch those loose letters. You can date them but don’t marry one. They always seeing the grass as greener on the other side of the fence. The relationship doesn’t end well. We forget that there’s enough to go around.

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