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“That’s where they are you know? People say they’re myth, but so many stories talk about them ascending, evolving. If we ever make it to living among the stars, I’m sure we’ll rediscover dragons.” She paused a moment; they stared at the stars above them, “Do you reckon that the moon could technically be made of cheese?”

Larry’s funeral had been last week, and Owain was still wearing black. He had loved him as a brother, and was mourning him as one now.

The doorbell ringing was a surprise for all of the family, except for Owain. Who didn’t hear it. It was his Dad who answered the ringing speaker, watching the screen as it showed the girl ringing the apartment number, tan with dark hair, a fringe, and grey eyes, dressed like she’d been hired to play a vagrant in a musical, though maybe that was just the flatcap, a colourful metal band around her right arm. Mr. McCrawley knew she looked somewhat familiar, but not enough to be

Amy sat cross-legged in the middle of her new room, staring into oblivion as she realised that the last hundred years of her life were real, and was coming to the conclusion that a century is rather a long time to only have grown one year.

What Lyall saw was nothing close to what he had been expecting, and even further away from what he had been ready for.