Elizabeth Rigolo Wilson

Fire Becomes Her

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. There had once been a time when there was nothing but life in that glen. A brook babbled across the land while sprites flitted from stone to stone. Gnomes were always very busy doing Merlin-knows-what in the tall grass. Yet despite always being busy, nothing was ever done by day’s end. Wildlife roamed without fear under the lush canopy of trees. I had lived happily in that valley for a hundred years until the dragons came…