InkCraft Issue One | Page 25

The Busker By Gracie The white page stares out at me, the lines to write upon run just like prison bars across it. Trapping in my words, holding in my emotion. I cry out, but my voice just chokes and I realise that I too am confined to silence just like the ghostly page. The tears glint in my eyes and I know that the reflection in them will be that of the view through my window. Rain falls at an angle and collects in puddles on the road and pavement. The sky is neither stormy nor still, just......grey. The houses that line the street drip water from their leaking gutters and the windows with shattered glass seem to look out at the scene in a depressed manner, their eyelids drooping. One single leaf clings to a twig on the big, black tree that grows on a patch of dying grass, Then it falls, spiralling down to the ground. I step out into the street, wrapping my shiny, black waterproof coat around me. My shield, not just from the weather, but from the people, the strangers. I don't want them to see who I am inside. I am a writer, I feed off of the crazy inspiration that wells up inside me, demanding to be pinned onto paper. So when I can’t write, I don't know who I am. I feel like a sort of spirit of a past writer, who wanders with all purpose lost. Who