After looking at this beautiful street light for quite a bit this morning, I took Rochelle Wisoff-Field’s photo prompt to a world of fantasy. Thanks, Sandra Crook, for providing the picture that stumped me for awhile.
“But they say Tassanet women can tell the future by looking at the light.” The clash of sword against sword almost drowns out Anistad’s voice.
“Auch, no. Only Auntie Rena can.”
“Look again, maybe you’ll see something this time.” Screams of pain rise above the din of battle. “We need to know!”
Petty-June stares at the glass globe until tiny white spots appear before her eyes. “Nothing!”
“Again!”
“Then you’ll leave me be?”
Battle-smoke fills the room.
A nod.
Another look. The spots grow, morph into butterflies, shape-shift into ravens and finally become a rage of brilliant red dragons.
Petty-June whispers,”They’re coming.”
Up From the Ashes 