Source https://pixabay.com/illustrations/ink-blob-splat-splatter-drip-5726962/
The Ink Blot
The gray haired man kept asking her to focus, but her eyes were blurred by her attention.
“What do you see, describe it in simple terms. Don’t think too hard?”
But, she saw an ink blot, no more than that. Her imagination was as destitute as the dry paper on which it appeared.
“It looks like an ink blot.” She turned her furrowed brow towards him.
He sighed and asked her to try a little harder, so she did.
“It looks like a butterfly.” She said, proud of her lie.
“It does?” He questioned, looking at the blot upside down.
She knew that it didn’t look like a butterfly, but what the hell, how was an ink blot going to measure her intelligence.
He looked at her with regret and closed the file.
“My dear, it’s such a pity.” It’s all he said, while scratching black marks against her name.
She considered his response, and looked at the closed file.
“I was testing you. Pulling your leg to see if you’d know. Of course that’s no butterfly, it’s a cow, a field animal just about to graze.” Her eyes were alight with fabrication, she wanted to see if it would work.
By heavens, he clapped his hands, and shouted Bravo, and opened the file to erase his mark.
And, she knew, she understood that the world was insane, and she’d finally made a plan to fit in.
A daily initiative by 