He sat poised, with fountain pen in hand. The piece of parchment - crisp, white, spotless - lay before him. He had to think carefully; the perfect idea.
Suddenly, it hit him. "Yes!" he cried jubilantly, raising his hand, as a single drop of beryl ink fell from the nib, engulfing whiteness with its inky stain.
1 comment:
very visual, I like it.
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