There’s nothing left but bits of #chrome and a smudge of oil on saltwater scales to hint there’d ever been a bike in the garage at all. “Really? I save your life and this is–!” The dragon burped, gloriously unapologetic, and started to gnaw thoughtfully on the car.
Flash fiction response to the #vss365 (Very Short Stories 365) prompt word Classic.
Flash fiction response to the #vss365 (Very Short Stories 365) prompt word Orange.
Our world ends at #Finisterre, or so my grandfather claimed, where the rocky cliffs slope down to an unforgiving sea. We buried him there in a scatter of ash and salted memories. Safe at the crest of the tides that had swallowed everything– everyone that he loved.
Winds at the cliff edge suspend her, arms outstretched for one long moment before she falls. Eyes closed, she feels the spray of the white caps before Scout smoothly lifts her back into the sky. Not the #outblowing her mother meant, but exhilarating nonetheless.