Jaune, wreathed in shadow, looked up to the great dragons that towered over Tarascon-sur-Rhône.

They sat so high above, creatures who could destroy swaths of the city with a single breath, judging all.

He turned away as his mother called him, running from stone mimicries of great beings long lost.

So just trying a little idea I saw for short little 50 word fictions. I am starting small to get back into writing. I have a Tales of Prospero for longer pieces

Check out my other works or even comment your own themes for one 12/6/2019