A Second’s Inspiration

Flipping each sheet one by one, he noticed a sparkle from the page he had been working on, which now appeared to be gilded on the edge as well. His eyes widened as he revealed the page, which appeared to be covered in oil-slick except for an outline where his hand and pen had been, which was now a silhouette of plain, off-white paper with a dot of smudged black where the ink had dripped. It bled into the slick and swirled into a mesmerizing, spiraling pattern. He dabbed the page with the paper towel he had been using to clean off his pen to see if the page was wet, but even after smearing and rubbing for a few seconds, the page seemed to be dry as a piece of plain paper could be.

Consigned

  The velvety, black sky Rests heavily upon the city lights He promised he'd teach me to fly Deeper, ever deeper into the night For dreams don't just last in our eyes Life was not made for the mind So kiss the moon goodbye To naught shall thee ever be consigned   Evoke

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