I wrote this for Brit Writers’ September ‘Picture the Story’ competition, but never submitted it. There’s so much more that could be written, but I sort of like it this way. ~ LY.



Rustic with edges soiled by time, she lay the thin sheets on her mahogany desk and poured him onto their surface. Every molecular form of his being oozed through the fine nib of her quill pen and soaked the paper before her. The quill was reserved for special writing – meaningful penmanship of events and people that are not to be forgotten.

Hunched over the sheets, her hand moved with grace, lettering pretty cursive shapes as he flowed through her onto the pages. Once he’d run dry 14 pages later, she sealed the chapter of her life with: ‘And I thought I knew him.’

© LaYinka Sanni, September 2012


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