Dublin Ink Novels & Stories

She replied, "The red ink pen in the office." I started laughing harder. "You mean the indelible red ink pen in the office that will not come off." She looked horrified and then started laughing hysterically. "Just please fuck me good for my attempt to be creative." I did. Brittney's personality always kept me off balance. Most people have a business face and a personal face. Brittney's was more than that. One day I bought three yellow roses from a peddler at a stoplight. When Brittney came home the roses were in a small crystal vase on the kitchen table.

The ink clings to the quill, its viscosity carefully crafted to prevent dispersal in the water. Turning his attention to the kelp paper in front of him, Bryan observes the faint shimmer on its surface. The kelp fibers have been infused with a unique hardening agent, a secret formula known only to the skilled artisans of Tritania. The agent causes the ink to react, triggering a chemical transformation that solidifies the liquid, ensuring that the words he pens will remain intact and readable.

And now that I checked out the cab, I began to notice a few odd things as well. There was no meter, but that wasn’t so unusual, a lot of minicabs in Dublin didn’t have meters, same with gypsy cabs in New York. But there was no glass partition between the driver and me. No credit card machine, no identity card hanging from his mirror, and he had no sticker allowing him into airport parking. In fact, there was nothing in the cab that looked like a cab at all.