Abraham woke up in the empty boxcar and stretched. His back
ached and his head hurt from the wine last night. He crawled outside, yawning.
The rail yard was by the seashore, and that made for cool mornings, which he
loved. He reached back into the car and pulled out the broadsword. He looked at
the cursed thing, his albatross. He still wasn't sure where it came from, but
when he pulled it from the scabbard, it glowed with an effulgent light that blinded
him. Even now, it pulled at him. It was leading him somewhere, some place
Abraham didn't want to be. The home of the red dragon that had forged it.
Abraham knew only one thing about that place. He had dreamed about it, so he
knew it would be true. The steel and concrete skyscraper the dragon lived in would
be the place where Abraham would die.
150 words
@blanchardauthor
Also going for the overachiever title with the use of five prompt words. :)
Wonderful! So many lovely things about this piece - the unhurried way the story unfolded, the way our sense were sated with tangible things like the smell and feel of the sea breeze, and that utter conviction of the character. :)
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