Secret Agent Fountain Pen
by Rupan Malakin
My father once had a fountain pen called a Quink. I was using it for homework when it began writing of its own accord. Apparently, it was a top-secret robot super spy sent back in time to stop the Jemima Pinke episode. It asked if I wanted the details. I said sure. Using my hand, the pen scribbled out two pages of A4 detailing how the US government re-animated the corpse of Marilyn Monroe, shaved off all her hair, and then watched her decay while pelting her with stones and calling out ‘Whore! Whore!’ When the pen finished, I asked about Jemima Pinke. It wrote that I was a fool who understood nothing. I threw the pen out the window, hoping it would land in the koi pond, but midway down a parachute popped from its nib. The wind lifted it high into the air, carrying it far away, until it became nothing more than the faintest of dots amid the white banks of clouds that seemed to go on and on forever.
Rupan Malakin is a short writer of tall stories. He has recently been published in Eclectica, decomP and Bound Off and can be found roaming the Internet HERE and at @rupanmalakin.
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