I Believe In Dragons

It might seem controversial, but I have a strong belief that dragons actually exist. You might think me insane or desperately naive, a sufferer of what is colloquially known as wishful thinking. Or perhaps you believe I'm of a more metaphorical bent, and my optimistic nature and love of the imagination means I hold a place in my heart for the fantastical. I surely couldn't be speaking literally.

If that's the case, I promise you I am most serious when I say I believe in dragons. In fact, one is staring at me this very moment, ready to breathe fire.

The Lit Bedroom

As nightfall descended, a feathery latecomer gathered crumbs from Vi’s patio. Lights in a nearby house turned off, except for one.

It shone from a second story. An elderly woman was seen looking out the window.

When Vi met the house owner at their communal mailbox, she remarked on the upstairs light being left on at night and asked how long the guest would be visiting.

The neighbor looked perplexed. She said it was her mother’s room, until her death a year ago.

Vi wondered if her imagination played tricks. Since their conversation, that bedroom light no longer lit up.

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Krystyna writes poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction, primarily residing in Edmonton, Canada.

Embers

He thinks he sees her again and he’s mesmerized by her perfection.

He watches her and remembers his perfect past; remembers what it was like for him all those many years ago when, returning home, he'd find the perfect woman there, smiling, standing beside the fireplace, close to the fire, waiting. He can’t always recall her name, but he remembers the fire and her smile; the perfectly soft glow, the welcoming warmth.

These are the benedictions of age, he thinks. Even when the fire burns low, there is memory and imagination; even in an empty room I am never alone.

From Guest Contributor Ron. Lavalette

Find Ron. Lavalette’s work at: EGGS OVER TOKYO

Graveyard Shift

There was an emptiness to everything. Even the space between the minutes lacked connective tissue, so that time no longer flowed with any regularity. Josey was left with nothing but her thoughts to fill the void that descended upon the convenience store after midnight.

She'd divide each 15-minute chunk into 91 cents. That's how much she made, after taxes and withholdings. It hardly seemed worth it, and she'd stare out at the empty highway and live an entire lifetime during every span, dreaming of a life where she'd never married, had never given birth.

Until even her imagination was empty.

Dandelions

Passersby might have been forgiven for thinking the playground was host to a psychedelic staging of an Andrew Lloyd Webber musical, but it was just Cassie and Bobby, who'd rubbed dandelions on their skin until their faces were streaked with yellow. They wanted to camouflage themselves like the soldiers on TV, but all they had was mud and flowers and imagination.

When the real life soldiers came, Cassie and Bobby hid in the drainage tunnel as they'd been taught. The gunshots echoed like firecrackers in the air around them while they waited in vain for their parents to find them.

She Liked Avocados

It wasn't the flying that alerted her. That seemed natural.

It was the complete lack of context that confirmed to Shirlene none of this was real.

There was very little this version of herself knew with any certainty. She remembered her name. She liked avocados. And she was positive that every memory she possessed was a figment of her imagination.

As Shirlene soared above the city of clouds and unfamiliar landscapes, she reflected on her other dreams and other lives. None seemed as real as this moment right now.

The only reality that mattered was her hunger for more avocados.

The Night's Hope For A Better Tomorrow

Dreams projected on a ceiling from a restless mind. A vision of a better tomorrow plays from the imagination onto the stucco. With pleading hope for happiness to join the rising sun, the reality of sadness can be temporarily cast aside. Muscles relax and the burden lessens with the promise. Eyes close and colors dance a firefly ballet on the back of eyelids. Fantasies and nightmares disturb the slumber but recede with the buzz of an alarm clock. Golden rays of butterscotch pour through the glass and warm the face. I rise, we all rise… with hope in our hearts.

From Guest Contributor Jordan Altman

Traveller

As soon as Aarthi could walk she had toddled off to the nearby railroad crossing and plopped herself down under the sign to play in the dust with whatever curios escaped from the trains’ wakes as they slowed.

Her skinny brown legs had quickly lost their natural skin-glow as she had sprawled in pursuit of imagination. She’d found a shiny dollar once. Mam had taken that. Aarthi had got ice-cream.

***

Sixteen long years ago. Now, she eased her battered body to a sitting position and placed her hand on the rail. It was coming to free her from her abuser.

From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid

Winter

I peered suspiciously beyond the chipped lacquer of the oaken balcony. I had seen this before. The wind was coming.

Somehow, this place had now become my opus. I mean to say of course that it had supplanted my imagination. The verdurous landscape below appeared at times surreal; dioramic. And yet, at almost the same moment, conscious; alive to the rhythmic pulsations of the earth. Living in the trees was an idyllic stillness; in the air, an inscrutable entropy.

Soon, without warning, the wind would be be upon us, and a pervasive cold would grip the house for many days.

From Guest Contributor L.S. Worthy

Dreams

He dreamed of realities that could never be. He dreamed of being an Olympian. He dreamed of winning the Oscar for Best Supporting Actor. He dreamed of traveling to Mars and back or building a time machine. He dreamed he had the power to grant every wish. He dreamed of immortality. He dreamed he was the Creator and this entire world was a figment of his own imagination. He dreamed of true love.

Because of all these impossible dreams, he never achieved any of his dreams that were actually attainable. They all seemed pointless when compared to what was impossible.