Thanks to dear Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers and to Na’mama Yehuda for the photo
I woke from a dream, in which I wake up in a small locked room, puzzled – how did I end up here ? There’s a desk and pencil and paper. I write down, ‘let me out of this room’.
Above is a small open window. An iridescent purple dragon appears at the window and invites me onto its back, we fly past the small window, soaring up into the twinkling night sky of an unknown. I’m lost, it’s not my city. The air chills so I huddle closer to the dragon’s cold neck and yearn for the familiarity and warmth of the little locked room.
The dragon says nothing.