A Dream Let Languor
“I designed her when I was your age,” the inventor said. “A dream I never should have let languor until I was old.”
“Do you need, a crew?” one of the kids asked. He touched the small starship. “Yes… this baby’s powered by imagination. The more, the better!”
Let the Dance Just Be
Her kiss is effervescence, above my books of D&D. She says I was her favorite neighbor, from a future that now won’t be.
She passes me a mix tape, labeled Let the Dance Just Be. Says she won’t mind being an 80s teen again, so long as it’s with teenaged me.
He gave his wife her tea, then sipped his regarding the lawn.
“Why is there a Shetland pony here?” he asked.
She eyed him with a wily smile. “Because while transformation isn’t always a panacea for asshole neighbors, my witch’s heart can’t deny it’s funny!”
“Did the Rapid Roofers fix the leak?”
“Yes, you just missed them.”
“Did they, replace our slate with peanut brittle?!”
“Oh, RAPID! I thought you said SAPID! I called Confectionery Construction, sorry.”
“Remind me why we moved to the fairytale quarter again…”
He levels his sword at it. The great beast looms large in the enormous cave.
“It is my quest to slay what lairs here!”
Its voice is a rumble. “You’re too late, Sir Knight. I slayed the dragon.”
“You are the dragon!”
“Yes, the curse and penance for my crime.”
Copyright © by Jason H. Abbott, All Rights Reserved.
Discover more of my Aethereal Musings.
My neighbors haven’t mowed their property in 3 years. Can your witch come over and turn them into goats until they’ve got the weeds and brush under control?
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