Day 172: 28 April 2026

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 Short Story -- Gwendolyn


‘And then POOF! There was a dragon there.’ Cedric was a big man. Tall. Broad shoulders. Arms and legs like trees from clearing a patch of forest to build his home, a small farm.

‘It could nae have been POOF! Dragons hatch from eggs. They may be magical creatures but POOF is biologically impossible, even for them.’ Egret was nine. She was fair with bright red hair and freckles. And she always had her nose in a book. She was clever behind her years.

‘I dinnae mean literally,’ Cedric said exasperatedly.

‘Then you should’ve said so,’ Egret replied, who was quite literal. All the time.

At the moment she was also gazing down at a small dragon curled up on the hearth of their home near the fire. Its opalescent scales seemed to practically sparkle in the flickering fire light. It’s black eyes watching with keen interest the exchange between the two.

‘What are we gonna call it?’ she asked. ‘What about Gwendolyn?’

‘Gwendolyn the dragon?’ asked Cedric. ‘Does nae sound too mighty to me.’ He refrained from asking how Egret knew the dragon was a she. But he believed her if she said she was.

‘And what would you call her?’ Egret countered. She already knew she’d one this round, but asked pressed anyways.

‘Gwendolyn it is,’ Cedric sighed.

‘Do you like that name? Gwendolyn?’ she turned to the little dragon.

It made a slight purring sound.

‘It’s decided then,’ she declared.

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