Theme 16: 2014: Ink

From @icebrutiyer: 

He was not impatient, just running low on resources. He had waited long enough for that perfect photograph, his finger trembling on the button. His instinct told him that now was the moment, he clicked. SPLOOSH. In a giant cloud of ink, the majestic octopus plunged away in to the darkness of the bottomless ocean.

From @sourcasm: 

While cleaning the cupboard, Aisha found her old school shirt. Even though the ink had almost faded along with the memories, some lines of those signatures were still visible. On that last day of school all of them had promised to stay in touch with each other, but life obviously had other plans for them.

From @brahahamin: 

It had been seven years since they spoke. She realized it was her mistake. She wanted to write to him- a journalist now- but decided to call him instead. It was a lengthy conversation. She cried, but still decided to write. He received the letter. A smudged blot of red ink on a white paper.

From @NumbYaar: 

She woke up with swollen eyes. It was three days since her husband went missing. On that fateful day, the police came knocking and informed her about a dead body floating in the nearby river. The face had bloated beyond recognition, but the scorpion tattooed on the right elbow gave her the much dreaded news.  

From @TheExceptionull: 

He inked her with all his love, all over her body, from the nape of her neck to the curve of her hip. With each touch of his fingertips, she became his more than she ever was. Melting with each kiss, she could only think how good it would be if this was not just her fantasy.

From @AbhiAndNow: 

“Long time ago, while creating the earth, God started writing stories in the sky that’d slowly trickle down with rains and merge with the ordinary lives, thus making them extraordinary.

However while writing them, his pen broke down, and the dark ink spread all over the sky.”
“And then?”

“That’s how night came into existence.”

From @deescjockey:

The shop assistant gaped at me stupidly, as if trying to decipher what I had just said. Then he shook his head tentatively, not quite sure if they did not have this ‘ink’ thing I spoke about. All of 15, he had perhaps never seen a pen that needed to be fed with a dropper.

From @hiway: 

"I met her during the war, my rifle pointed at her, her teared up eyes piercing my heart and shredding it to tatters. It was love at second sight, we hated each other at the first" he sighed, "I had to leave, but two things kept us together till the war ended: paper and ink."

From @vidulachakradeo: 

It’s always the ink that gets blamed for writing wrong. Never the blank page. 

From @ChiknaVakeel: 

The mahogany desk had witnessed longer nights; the nib got some time to breathe. She gave him a smoke signal by putting off the flame to sleep. Darkness fell on her shoulder to make up for the receding fabric.  Sunlight found their ink smeared entangled bodies, taking a long break.

From @zoarcher: 

The fluid was ready to shape into words

To bring a million thoughts into this world

Itching inside the plastic cage

It worried it might just die there

The blank page seemed to be calling out loud

Flapping itself here and about

But what could the blue fluid do

When Zeeshan’s mind refused to move

From @captain_speakin: 

She had learned to walk with eyes on the sky and feet firmly in the ground. She flew with her dreams so often, even the clouds had her footsteps marked on them. She always had wings in her spirit, now she's got them inked on her chest and etched them deep into her soul. 

From @aalfpaayil: 

It was five minutes to 12:00. Five minutes to freedom. It had been strenuous, this board exam phase. He sat smiling to himself. This paper had been a piece of cake.

“You may submit your papers,” the invigilator called out.

He got up, eager to leave. He knocked over the half-closed ink bottle, and stood transfixed as Ink erased one year of toil.

From @heyman_guy: 

Parasuraman was standing at the court room charged for murder, with moist eyes. The news was all over the ink. He just slapped his student Karan, who splattered ink all over him. The judge sentenced capital punishment, as the ink thinned out and broke the pen before inking his name, Karikalan Sathyamoorthy at the end.

From @Kanakkupullai: 

Politics, he hated the mere mention of the damned word. He hated all that political parties stood for, those fake promises, cunning faces and disappearing public money. He had decided what he'd do. He walked in, and walked out. He hadn't voted anyone in particular. But his finger bore a proud mark in indelible ink.

From @ungaayaa: 

Ten-year old Anitha didn't know the answers for questions 8, 9 and 10. It was her moral science test. She looked around her and then began writing an answer for Question8:

Good morning Miss. I really know the answers for all the questions but I don't have any ink in my pen.

From @donbratman: 

He enjoyed killing people more than anything else. Today's victim was a 45 year old businessman. He waited for him patiently and shot him in his own elevator using a silencer. He went back to his den and asked his buddy to ink the name Ken Adams to his leg. It was his 87th such tattoo.

From @MsMecheri: 

The trial dragged on for 21 long days now. Ram and Ramya were nervously waiting for the verdict. The opposition was too strong. They had nothing left to save themselves. The court remained silent as the judge inked the final word,"Guilty". Ramya wept profusely,"why would we kill our own daughter!"

From @Stupidiotica: 

He, adept at calculated, geometric patterns; she skilled at abstract, convoluted strokes, now stood near a corner of the sprawling canvas silently admiring their completed collaboration. For many years to come, the stains of India ink on their hands would be their happiest memory together to cherish.

From @podidosai: 

Seventy five years of existence, yet this was his first time. His hand had never held it before. He had a sense of satisfaction, a sense of achievement, a sensation he had never experienced before. Tears rolled down his cheek, seeing his name in ink, written all by himself.

From @_souringpie: 

“Ma’am, pour some ink on this white cloth and I shall wash it with 4 different detergents.” She did the same only to find out the stains hardly cleaned. “What’s this? Useless.”” Ma’am, it’s our new Hamilton ink. Powerful. Reliable. Reasonable.””I thought you were selling detergent.” She moved to next stall, laughing. He stayed stunned.

From @ajaw_ : 

Nothing has changed. The alternatives are familiar. The dilemma is something; I’d hoped would be put to rest. Betrayed, hurt and annoyed; I’m still braving the sun and the long queues, in hope, that it would be different this time. I’ve done my part, in inking my index finger. It’s up to you to do yours!

From @qwzrs: 

The virgin Hero was ready for his first experience. Stories from friends hadn't prepared him for the feeling he got, as the juices coursed through his innards, to the very tip. This was the moment. His pulse quickened as the blue ink climaxed onto the paper. Fuck! He wanted the moving hand to keep moving.

From @TheQuietBelle_ : 

As she locked eyes with her reflection, a mixture of kohl and saltwater stained the caramel of her skin an unflattering black. Removing the shirt off her slender form, she observed the name tattooed on her chest. The memory of his betrayal flooded her with anger. She began scrubbing the tattoo and continued till her skin turned scarlet. He was gone. But the ink was permanent.