Scales

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Dragon care:

Make sure your dragons scales are kept in tip top condition. Use ‘Dddragon polish’ (tm). Uses gold dust and magyc oil to give them that gleam.

Ice cubes on the underside of the elbows will reduce inflammation (also known as flight elbow).

A spoonful of honey in a gallon of alder oil is good for your dragons throat after a hard day’s flaming.

Remember to wear woollen underwear, it may be hot and itchy but it prevents burns during dragon jousting.

When attempting barrel rolls or loop the loops ensure you have your stirrups in ‘high hitch’ position.

Dragon racing is for professionals. No parachutes are allowed but wing suits are acceptable.

Finally, dragons are not allowed to drink alcohol. The tragic consequences are well documented historically.

Green door

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I keep missing write photo prompts where you write a piece about a photo.

This was taken at a grand house near Fountains Abbey in Yorkshire. I’m sorry I can’t remember the name of the building. What is important is that they rent out rooms for holiday let’s there.

Rachel ran down the stairs from her room and rushed out of the green door. It had happened again, the light had played a trick on her and she had seen a shadowy figure in the dust motes that danced in the beam of sunlight shining through the stained glass windows. She had decided to see if anyone was playing tricks with a mirror outside? How else could the image have been projected into her room?

But no one was there, not even the friendly female attendant who usually sat in the kiosk by the gate, selling tickets to tourists to visit the Abbey which stood in ruins only a quarter of a mile away.

She stepped back through the mossy green door. But not into the present. A stench of rotting flesh overwhelmed her. Figures scurried about carrying boxes, flowers, rushes for the lamps. She had gone back in time. A woman, who looked like a maid, shouted at her to move. He’s here, the King has arrived. Get on with your work. Fearful and panicking Rachel stepped backwards and fell, tripping off the step.

The kiosk lady stood over her. You OK dear? She asked…..

Berador

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Berador, wind wraith, fourth brother of the Vars. The clan of the elements.

Brother to Shenth, Earth wraith, Strunt, fire wraith and Flonda, water wraith.

Berador had been seperated from his brothers in the War of Merenda. He was now lost in the great forest where his breath beat against the leaves and branches, tearing at them, and yet he could not escape.

It had been three months since the war ended and they had left him here thinking him dead. But the breeze in him still trembled the trees and sparse grasses. He knew Autumn was coming, then he would have a chance.

As the season turned the Forest grew orange and golden and mauve in the cooling air. Now Berador could push his breath against the leaves and they started to fall, curling and flying away. They fell in drifts on the ground that he struggled through. But he could see his way now. Beyond the edges of the trees lay their old haunt, Skreelt Castle.

In days he would be home, in days his brothers would celebrate his return. His breath would sustain him until his homecoming. He knew it would not be long now.

 

 

Almost midnight

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The green glow outside had intensified and was visible in her living room now. It was almost midnight and she knew if anything was going to happen it would be soon. He heart was pounding and she felt sweat trickle down the side of her nose. All she could do was hide.

She stepped into the old oak cupboard, pulled the door shut and hung on to the catch.

Suddenly the rushing noise outside was everywhere. She stuffed her hand in her mouth to stop screaming.

Gradually the noise calmed down, it quietened  there was a moment of a shrill scream and then silence.

In the morning it was on the news, her neighbour dead of a heart attack.

She never saw the green glow again…..

 

Books

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What are your favourite books?

I’ve visited people and they had none, I didn’t like to ask, occasionally there would be a tabloid newspaper but that was about it. Sometimes people would have a few romance novels, or old classic ones by Dickens or Stevenson which they probably inhereted from an older relative or were prizes from school.

I was talking about this with my partner because we are both avid readers. I know my mother collected abridged versions of books from a book club run by readers digest and she also had a subscription to their monthly booklet. I remember reading books by Hammond Innes and Alistair McLean as I became a teenager. I was also seriously interested in science fiction and particularly liked Arthur C Clarke and Issac Asimov. The three laws of robotics.

In my adult life I fell in love with Terry Pratchett who wrote fantasy fiction. That was probably because my partner introduced me to JRR Tolkien and Ursula LeGuin. I’m also interested in science, art, biography physics and science fiction. So we ended up having over a thousand books if you count all his books about trains, bikes and tractors. Sometimes I just look at all the shelves and wonder where they came from……

The Zebracorn

Long years ago, before the time of the man-beast, an animal roamed the plains of a foreign land…..¬†IMG_20190209_010011_358

Neither horse nor pony, the creature was called the Zebracorn.

Six foot high at the shoulder, with smouldering hooves that beat a rhythm of power as it galloped over the grassy land, this fabled creature could outrun panthers. It could fight off a leopard or a lion with one kick. It’s horn could shatter rock and scatter the stone which would then transform into diamonds.

The Zebracorn had a vast territory, it could run from sunrise to sunset without reaching the furthest edge of its land.

So grand and wise was it that the other animals, from clever ants to wise water buffalo gave it food when it was hungry and dug water up from the desert if it was thirsty.

One day it found a new animal. Joyfully it ran over the grassland to say a greeting to the creature who walked upright on its two feet. Instead of hooves this creature, the man-beast had hands on its front limbs.

As the Zebracorn came to a graceful halt in front of this upright creature, the man – beast picked up a branch it had been using to lean on. Instead of the customary greeting in return, the animal lifted the branch and stabbed the Zebracorn in its heart. There was no explanation or reason for this act. Only the fact that the man-beast liked to kill. To maim and to destroy life.

This it has been since time began. Death bought not just for meat for the table but for fun, or to gather horn as an aphrodisiac

Now other animals are close to extinction. The Lion, Giraffe, Elephant, Rhino and other smaller beasts too.

The man-beast has made a difference to life on this planet. In the time it has existed one quarter of the world’s animal population has become extinct.

Zebracorns or Bears, Beetles or Mice. This has to stop.