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Dark Wood
Writer's pictureElizabeth Davis

Sparkle: Flash Fiction

I wrote this for an event known as Inktober, and it was a little motivational speech. Enjoy!

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The little red-orange bird hobbled to the edge of the cliff. Beneath it was ashes, the embers giving off little sparks of light in the darkness. But what the bird wanted was higher.

It was another tier up. The bird was tired after rising from the ashes, but the biggest part was up ahead.

To the sparkling trophy, the emblem of success. The thing the Phoenix wanted was to be top, not buried in the ashes.

So it crouched and sprang into the air, beating its worn out wings and rising upward past the running fox, past the badger galloping up to the sparkling trophy.

The phoenix was rising. After being left in the dirt the last few races, it was ready to take on the prize of the sparkling trophy.

At the last minute, as the fox and badger were about to reach their paws out and touch the trophy, the phoenix dropped from the sky like a bullet,

AND GOT THE TROPHY! As the bird’s beak touched the gold, it turned into a red ruby trophy, more sparkly than ever.

The Rubarians had risen from the ashes into the glories of victory. It was wonderful, and as the phoenix (his name was Feur) looked out of the trophy, he saw many rejoicing red-clad people- the ones that had helped him rise.

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