404 – The artist

The scent
Of ink and fresh blood
Lingered in the air.

The needle
Still felt scalding hot
Between his fingers.

The eyes
Of the mischievous fox
Stared back into his.

He heard
His old voice saying
I’m no longer your disciple.

I know.
Answered his new voice.
You have become me.

• • •

Want to comment about what you read?