January 11, 2018, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about wet ink. It can be artistic, writerly or something completely off-the-wall. Go where the prompt leads
My mother always said there was no point in crying over spilt milk, but spilt ink was a different matter.
There was immediate panic to clean it up as mum knew the stain would never come out. And it didn’t. Not that it happened much, but it was a constant source of danger.
Each of us was given a bottle of Swan Ink. We guarded it with our lives. Hours each day we practised our script, our curved lettering.
In front of us was the reminder to take care, the stain of the spilt ink fresh in our minds.
Written for: https://carrotranch.com/2018/01/12/january-11-flash-fiction-challenge/
Morpethroad 
Loved my bottles of ink!
You obviously didn’t spill any Ritu.
No… but The staining I’d get on my fingers!
Swan Ink and post office pens…how well I remember them, Michael 🙂
We used an Osmiriod65 as our pen, it was top of the range back in 1963.
I can barely remember the days when I used a fountain pen that I had to insert into a bottle of ink to fill. But I do remember my mother’s stern warning to be very careful and to not spill the ink.
The good old days eh? Thanks for stopping by.
A great take on the prompt, Michael.
Thanks Robbie
I remember those days. I also remember the pens leaking in my pocket and the stains never coming out.
Yes that happened to me too.
Liked the turn on spilt milk.
Thank you, have a good day.
I spent my entire childhood spilling ink bottles, and messing up my hands and fingers along with it. Lovely story.
Thanks so much appreciate you stopping by
I have missed out on the spilled ink experience in the US. We were all pencils for practice and school. I can imagine that every household had ink stains!
Every household and every school desk…though I’m too young to have used ink wells as such but we did have small bottles of ink.
That’s so interesting!
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