The Dragon’s Curse
by Lester D. Crawford

On Christmas Day, howls arose in the hills, howls of anguish, of loss, of death. The grief contained in those howls washed over the village. In the Great Hall the villagers gathered to escape the pain.

“Sing, everyone sing before our souls are lost to despair!”

They knew from where the wailing came: a heartbroken Dragon. No love is greater than a Dragon’s love for his rider. The most heartrending sound ever heard is the keening of a Dragon whose rider has died.

A Dragon is long lived, meaning he outlives his rider. That long life is the Dragon’s curse.

        Christmas. My watch says it’s Christmas. Why do I still wear this thing? On this world, days are longer making my watch useless. Yet, I still wear it. It’s telling me it’s Christmas. I want Christmas. I want a Christmas tree, a tree like I had growing up, a tree that means happiness and joy, and gifts. I want Christmas. Instead, I’m on this God forsaken alien planet, hiding, hunted by a huge, carnivorous monster, a dragon who stalks me, a dragon who wants me for his Christmas dinner. I must move. I need a better hiding place. Merry Christmas.

This 100-word story is for the “Advent Ghosts 2011” flash-fiction challenge as described on Loren Eaton’s blog I Saw Lightning Fall, in post: “Shared Storytelling: Advent Ghosts 2011,” with links to submitted stories posted here: “Advent Ghosts 2011: The Stories.”