This land had everything the Ink Man could need! He frolicked through the fields and felt the black grass brush against his feet with every step. He thought of all he could do.
For a few hours he learned to ride the black steeds. Though he fell off and failed miserably many times, it was impossible for him to feel physical pain. Soon, he was a master.
He went down to the black lake. He tried to peer into the depths, but due to the fact it was ink he saw nothing. Building up courage, the Ink Man dove in. The bottom of the lake was dark as the deepest depths of the Mariana Trench. He attempted to feel around as a blind man might do. He grabbed hold of something slippery. The fish quickly swam away angrily. The Ink Man shrugged it off....
That was until the fish's school came back and attacked the Ink Man.
Let's just say he learned to stay away from the Ink Lake, which he decided to name "Lake Nope".
For the next few weeks he did more. Learned how to plow the ink fields, trained the ink dog, extracted black milk from the cows. To test his creativity he made an axe and chopped down a few trees. With a few times accidentally hammering his thumb, almost sawing off his hand, and even more almost accidental accidents, the Ink Man managed to build a shed for his other variety of tools.
He enjoyed it all. But something was wrong, what was it? There were no issues, at least he didn't see any. He did everything he could think of. Maybe...
Maybe he was bored? Maybe this land was just too perfect? Would things ever change? Or would he spend the rest of his non-living life in this "paradise"?
YOU ARE READING
The Ink Man
General FictionIn the beginning there was nothing but white. How boring. Everywhere you looked. Up, down, left, right, forward, back. White as starlight, as a full moon, as the coldest snow. Barren and empty. Then the first ink droplet fell.
