Writing Prompt: Dragonfly

This dragonfly writing prompt comes from TheJitteryJunebug.com.

First, before I begin, do you know what dragonflies mean? I looked it up once because suddenly I saw dragonflies everywhere. One poor little guy died in the garden area at work. The next day I saw one fly through Walmart. And then one landed in my garden at home. What? I didn’t see dragonflies like this when I was a kid. (Or maybe I wasn’t paying attention.) So, this is what I found: 

The dragonfly totem carries the wisdom of transformation and adaptability in life. As spirit animal, the dragonfly is connected to the symbolism of change and light. When the dragonfly shows up in your life, it may remind you to bring a bit more lightness and joy into your life.

www.spiritanimal.info/dragonfly-spirit-animal

I’m not into totems and spirit animals, although I find them fascinating, but I love the possible meanings of symbols. (Yes, I do look up the symbolic meaning of my dreams. How did you know?)

Anyway, when I saw these dragonflies, it was during a lot of change in my life. I had just moved into a place with a friend, I received a big calling at church, I started a new job. It was crazy!

Anyway, writing prompt. I’ve been procrastinating it all day. Why? I don’t know. I need it. It will get my creative juices flowing. It will make me a stronger writer, I hope. But it’s scary. I don’t know what is going to come out. What if nothing comes out? What if garbage comes out? What if I literally throw-up garbage?

I know! Stop, Sara, and just get on with it. 

Okay. Here I go. Raw.

Writing prompt: Dragonfly

A dragonfly landed on the ruins of the citadel as the last flag fell.

Jamie’s ashen face watched with mixed emotion: sadness, elation, hurt. She fingered the fake blue rabbit’s foot her sister had stuffed in her palm just before she died. “Don’t let it be for nothing,” she whispered. Now the rabbit’s foot was soaked with blood from the horrors of battle, but Jamie carried it anyway.

“J,” a voice called from behind.

Jamie turned to see B, or Brandon, carrying a small child, passed out and snuggled close to B’s chest. They were all children, fighting for the right to live. Now they had won, but at what cost?

“Who’s that?” Jamie asked. 

“A child from the Basement,” B replied. 

The Basement: A horrible place where children who were not wanted were taken, turned into slaves, forced to live in squaller, doomed to death.

“And the others?” Jamie asked.

“The ones who could walk out are at the range,” Brandon replied, “The ones who can’t are being carried out by those who have made it back from the prison.”

The range: A small base the battling children had set up at the city park. It’s where they planned, lived, slept, and planned some more.

The prison: Where the unwanted children kept the grownup leaders who fought to keep them unwanted.

“How many?” Jamie asked.

“Too many, too, too many.”

Jamie wiped a tear from her cheek. “Well, we better get back to the range,” she said, fighting to stay calm, collected, assured, confident, strong. 

Jamie turned her back on the citadel and slowly trudged in the opposite direction. B followed.

As Jamie and B approached the range, Jamie gasped. Looking around, she saw groups of 50 or more children dispersed throughout the base.

“What are we going to do with all these kids?” Jamie exclaimed.

“I don’t know,” B replied. “But we better figure it out soon. We need food, water, baths. We stink but they stink worse. Some have bad sores. We may need to find one of our doctor friends.”

Jamie sighed. One war was over, but another was clearly beginning.

Welp, that’s all you get. It went in a totally different direction than I imagined. Are you hooked? Do you want more? Maybe someday I’ll come back and finish this story. 

Maybe.

*Evil laughter*

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Writer. What more can be said. Actually, a lot. So, just read and find out.

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