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I'm into mythical creatures and such; dragons and mermaids and werewolves. It's my hideaway; my safe haven for when I don't want to face the dull and boring, black-and-white world of "reality". And when I write, I'm adding colour to my little world.

Message from Writer

Each word, fragment, sentence, and paragraph is one of the many puzzle pieces of your own world. A world where "reality" doesn't exist and anything can happen. Your kingdom or queendom shouldn't be altered by someone else's thoughts or opinions. Otherwise, that place isn't yours truly.

Dragon Trainer's Saddlebag

May 10, 2016

Far off from urban though past black and white days, a leather saddlebag was strapped to a dragon saddle. A flexible pit and everlasting tool; jolting its components with every beat of the wings. A silver dagger, neatly packaged inside for when a Trainer's maneuverable hand was of much more aid than the dragon itself. Tree bark strips secured around a neatly folded cloth as strings; the shard of magnifying glass caressed between the layers. A view far beyond the eyes of two. The tiny needle shook in its designated box, awaiting its chance to stitch a path up north. The saddlebag swayed against myth-breaking scales. As the motion persisted dusty rainbows flew inside; powdered paints leapt from side to side of their miniature glass bottles. Stained paintbrushes and charcoal pencils drummed against their glass. The rhythm accompanied the life-filled pages of an old leather-bound journal. Every third flip of a thousand-year-old page was soaked in colours; some still wet and newly fresh. The other in-between papers collected crowds of charcoal. Words, fragments, sentences, metaphors, smilies, stories, poems, ideas, thoughts, memories; nothing could've been left out. The saddlebag lifted up; away with the sky, waving at clouds as it passed by. It was far off from urban though past black and white days yet a Dragon Trainer's Saddlebag it will stay.


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