She danced by the fire as the smoke twisted and twirled into her stories. Deer leaped and falcons soared, weeping willows swayed in the wind, waterfalls roared, and wildflowers bloomed, all a pale gray in the night sky, dissipating into the stars.
“It is not about how the stories end, but how they unfold,” she told us, as the smoke sank low. Mountains with snowy peaks, pine trees, and lakes rose from the smoke. As I walked, my legs cut through the scenery, whisps of smoke dancing through the air. I watched as the night sky swallowed up the stories.
About the Creator
Keep reading
More stories from Meaghan Priest and writers in Poets and other communities.
When I was a Dragon
The night was creeping over the pine forest, crawling across the sky and drowning us in darkness. The humans have to light up the night sky, with torches and lamps and big bonfires to scare away the dark. Every human village that I fly over has a dim glow to it. We don't do that, light the night on fire. We embrace the darkness, and the peaceful quiet that it brings. The world gets dark, and we lay down to rest.
By Meaghan Priest3 years ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
Love the description!