The Comet #flashfiction #dragons #blogbattle

#dragons #flashfiction


#dragons #flashfiction

It is the anniversary of the  Blog Battle contest and we are all posting our favourite entry from the last 12 months. 

I have written some bizarre and quite frankly random tales over the last year; about side tables, frogs, dating apps, mermaids, hot cross buns and secret agents who are in love. You would not believe how much cheese I have had to put away to fuel my creative brain cell. 

Out of all my stories this one holds a special place in my writer heart and will always be my favourite.

Apologies to all my followers who have waded through this one before…go make a cup of tea and move onto your next blogger’s post….its ok…sigh!


The Comet

The residents of Draco Street awoke, yawned, stretched and shuffled over to their windows to open their curtains. The sight that greeted them outside made their eyes widen and mouths fall open in shock.

‘Harold’ Pauline mumbled from the bedroom window.

‘It is…. all….silver’ she said quietly, making her husband Harold quickly put down his newspaper. His wife rarely said anything quietly.

‘Your prize wining roses are ruined’ she said, whirling round to face him with a worried expression.

‘What?’ Harold cried, pulling himself out of bed and rushing to the window. For a moment they both stood and stared.

The world had turned silver. Overnight a strange silver substance had coated everything in sight; pavements, gardens, cars, roofs, driveways and the road.

Harold took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. His hybrid tea roses, once a beautiful pink blend were now an odd metallic silver colour.

‘Oh my goodness!’ he whispered, gripping the windowsill and feeling the blood drain from his face. His beloved garden was now hidden beneath a blanket of silver powder.

Tears pricked his eyes and he reached out a trembling hand towards his wife. ‘What on earth has happened out there?’ he whispered.

Pauline responded by batting away his arm and giving him a sharp nudge in the ribs. ‘What is that strange boy doing?’ she asked, pointing towards the young boy sat on the silver coated pavement below, gazing up into the sky.

Harold glanced at the boy. It was Peter from two houses down.

‘Oh…yes…erm..his Grandfather Eric passed away a couple of days ago, I think he’s a bit upset’ he explained. For a moment Harold stopped fretting about his prize winning roses and felt a pang of sadness for the small solitary figure sat by the road.

Pauline shook her head disapprovingly. ‘I think you better go and investigate. This is all very strange!’ She pushed her husband towards the bedroom door and guided him down the stairs.

Harold found himself shoved outside in his pyjamas. There was a deathly silence to the street. No birds were twittering, no sounds of cars, no rustling trees, nothing. He looked around.

The strange silver powder glowed in the pale morning sunlight and he shielded his sleepy eyes.

‘My roses’ he gasped and staggered across his silver lawn. Once he reached them he gently tapped one of the rose heads. A cloud of silver dust fluttered into the air revealing a delicate pink rose. He exhaled loudly as a warm sense of relief flooded through him. His precious roses were not damaged.

Harold looked over at the boy. He looked like someone in need of a bit of company.

A door opened and closed loudly from the house opposite, stopping him in his tracks. A tall man appeared in a t-shirt and shorts. He was rubbing his eyes in amazement at his silver carpeted driveway.

‘Morning Mike!’ said Harold, giving his neighbour a friendly wave.

‘Good grief look at the mess it made!’ shrieked Mike, surveying his drive and pulling out a pair of gardening gloves, tucked into his shorts.

‘You know what did this?’ Harold asked, pointing to his silver coated lawn.

‘A comet mate’ said Mike, staring at his now silver coated car, his hands placed firmly on his hips.

‘Really Mike?’ Harold felt his back stiffen and his heart start to race. ‘A comet?’

‘It was all over the news last night. A strange orange glow in the sky’ said Mike wiping away a thick layer of silver dust from his car windscreen.

‘Well I never -a comet!’ exclaimed Harold, turning to survey his garden.

‘We tried looking at the sky to see if we could see it but the wife got bored!’ explained Mike. ‘She was desperate to get back on the shopping channel!’

Crouching down Harold picked up a handful of the silver powder and held it up to the light. It sparkled so much it felt like he was holding a powder made from crushed diamonds. ‘It is so beautiful’ he marvelled.

‘It is a nuisance!’ Mike said shaking silver dust from his gloves.

‘You need to go turn on the TV Harold’ said Mike. ‘They have all these comet experts being interviewed!’

‘Comet experts eh? It must be true!’ said Harold sifting the fine silver powder in his hand and wondering how far the comet had travelled before reaching its final destination.

‘What else could it be?’ Mike asked, scratching his head looking at his silver garden.

Their attentions turned to the boy called Peter. The boy had stopped looking up into the sky and was busy opening an old leather bound book.

Harold and Mike watched him carefully turn the pages.

For a moment Harold remembered the boy’s grandfather Eric, a strange old man who had spent much of his life living like a hermit up in the hills. Eric refused to have any contact with any of his family other than Peter.

There had been lots of rumours about Eric’s solitary existence in the wilderness over the years. Reports of unexplained lights in the sky above the hills and tales of climbers experiencing earth tremors had fuelled people’s suspicions about Eric.

‘Hey Peter did you see the comet on TV?’ shouted Mike.

‘It was not a comet!’ came the reply from the boy.

Both Mike and Harold glanced at each other.

‘What was it then?’ said Mike winking at Harold.

Peter looked up at them and spoke with such conviction that Harold felt the hairs on his neck stand on end. ‘A Silver Ridge Back Dragon died last night!’

Mike chuckled and shook his head. ‘Ha! Dragons don’t exist kid!’

Peter ignored the men. He flicked through the old leather book that his grandfather had given it to him before he died.

His index finger found the section he wanted, it was titled ‘The death of a Silver Ridge Back dragon’

Silver Ridge Back Dragon – A beautiful silver dragon which is known to remain loyal to its dragon keeper. Silver Ridge Backs have been known to die after the death of their keeper.

The death of a Silver Ridge Back dragon is quite a spectacle. It is the only type of dragon that chooses to die at night and during flight. 

The Silver Ridge Back launches itself into the night sky for one last time. For its final flight this magnificent creature shoots across the sky at a death defying speed, encased in a brilliant orange glow. As it takes its last fiery breath the dragon explodes into a million tiny silver particles, which shower the earth below.

To the untrained eye the death of a Silver Ridge Back Dragon can get mistaken for a comet.

The End

photo credit: <a href=”″>Comet McNaught (C/2006 P1)</a> via <a href=””>photopin</a&gt; <a href=””>(license)</a&gt;





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I am a blonde writer of romantic comedy fiction.

51 thoughts on “The Comet #flashfiction #dragons #blogbattle

  1. I really want to see a Silver Ridge Back dragon now!–If only they existed in our world. It would be a beautiful sight. You gave me another dragon story to love.

  2. A great little story, both sad and beautiful. I liked how Peter spoke with conviction even though he probably knew no one would believe him. I wouldn’t want a dragon to die but the way you described it makes me wish I could experience this particular spectacle.

  3. Wonderful story – loved it! The idea of a dragon’s death being mistaken for a comet, for their being such a magical explanation for something the adults are all trying to find a rational explanation for… such a brilliant idea.

    And am reading more into it than I should, but was Peter’s grandfather the dragon’s keeper?

      1. You certainly achieved that. I think turning to silver dust is an amazing and powerful way for a dragon to die. Beautiful imagery too.

  4. We’ve had yellow smog in Sussex this week, visiting us from Europe. Could we have a silver ridge-back dragon now? Much more newsworthy than the depressing run-up to the General Election!
    But seriously, blondeusk, this is a fabulous story and you’ve made me smile, yet again 🙂

    1. Hey thx – its just a piece of flash fiction that made me get a bit teary. I wanted to show the death of something so magnificent in a beautiful way….if you know what I mean..

      1. Tuesday’s Blog Battle – I am really going to town, she’s emotional, highly strung and delusional – these come real easy for me – sigh!

  5. 😀 I remember this one very well, and love it just as much!! I have never read sci-fi before, but have really grown to like it through the battles, especially with great stories like this one!! ❤

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