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Two Drops of Ink: Noise, Guilt, Muskets, and Time | Two Drops of Ink: A Literary Blog
Then I pondered again the meaning behind the name. Two Drops. I can hear each drop hit the paper as I prepare to write a note to my mom, a last of the breed of letter writers. The quiet "splot-splot" as I get the ink moving in my precious fountain pen. Splot. Splot. I get my brain in gear, coaxing the thoughts I had the day before to come back to me. Yes, it's messy, but it's also contemplative. That's by design...