Short Stories
Tonight, the veil between our world and the world beyond is thinning, and spirits can travel back and forth. It is the perfect time to share with you this short story of mine that takes place on All Hallows’ Eve (also known as Halloween or, to those of old, Samhain).
In the past, I used to dream a lot. The factory of my subconscious weaved vivid stories and adventures that I wrote down the next morning.
One particular night, I dreamt about dragons.
Just look at him.
He is filthy. Full of mud and blood. And he can barely move. His wings are in tatters – one is broken and hanging painfully from his back. But he doesn’t seem to notice.
He was turning into a raven, it was his destiny. But he didn’t want to, he didn’t want to be different than the others, he was scared, and angry, and stubborn, and he was fighting the Change.