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Weekly Contest #356
First of all, the dragon was not supposed to come to life. Last night, it had still been a palm-sized plushie which I had ceremoniously dubbed “Embersnoot.” Cute. Inert. Secondly, it most certainly was not supposed to be chewing on my dearly-departed grandmother’s quilt.“What the fu—” I tumbled out of bed, legs still tangled in the sheets. The dragon squealed and tumbled off the opposite side, landing with a small thump out of sight. I sat there, hair in disarray, heart racing, mind scrambling for logic. If I didn’t move, maybe it wouldn’t b...
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