Inktober. . . sort of?

A lot of talented arty people do this thing where they draw a picture a day during October. I'm not really the sort of person who wants to draw something everyday but I AM the sort of person who has a lot of different ink (and WAY too many fountain pens) so I thought. . . I'll write some flash fiction or poetry with my ink and have my own "inktober." Now. . . I know what you're thinking. . . I'm not going to write a novel in NaNoWriMo. I certainly DO NOT have the will or attention span to do so. Also. . I do what I want so if I say using a bunch of crazy ink is Inktober. . . then it is.

But. . . I have noticed that most of what I'm writing is pretty bleak. I guess I'm in a mood. I'm pretty sure today's story is the second saddest thing I've ever written. I'm hoping for something a bit more chipper tomorrow. I suppose I'll just have to feel my feels and see if I can manage one, sort of solid piece of writing each day.

If you decide you want to read the second saddest thing I've ever written. . . you should probably know these three things:

1. I do not edit anything I write for myself. Go ahead and judge. It won't bother me.

2. It really is sort of bleak. You've been warned twice. It's a bit like a very short anti-fairy-tale

3. The ink (which I took a completely craptacular picture of) is called. "Stroke of Midnight" by Ferris Wheel Press. It's gorgeous and I have not done it justice. I don't get $$ or anything from them. It's just lovely ink.