Dragonfly Gentility [Day 87]

WIND WHISTLED THROUGH the trees like the souls of the dead. Gray mist hung off frail white branches, shattered insubstantial rags. The low moaning rrribbit of a giant bullfrog startled a pair of smartly dressed dragonfly, top silk hats beaded in moisture, nature’s diamonds for an evening ball. Their iridescent wings glittered, complemented by a lovely waistcoat and tiny pocket watch for each. The bullfrog, from his spot under the mist, croaked at their frivolity.


Written: 19 Nov 2015

Words: 75

Inspiration: the same place as for my NaNoWriMo



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