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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?”

It was the last Friday that Ivona would be with them and Owain was trying to make it the best Friday she had ever known. They’d spent the last week meeting up with all of Ivona’s friends families, and she’d spent the last night having a sleepover with her best friend, Milly, she was also being evacuated. All kids under the age of eighteen were being sent away this time, and several men in the town had been called up, at least one per family, not the McCrawleys though. Not yet

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

It didn’t feel like it should be the same day. The sun was shining, the rain from before had cleared up, and for once they had blue skies, but the faint tint of smoke on the air was a constant reminder of the morning’s events. No one was talking about it.

The bombs were still falling, louder and louder by the moment. Down in the basement, Owain had lost all sense of time.

Owain stared at the empty space where the boat, The Salmon’s Head, should have been. The rain was heavy, but not enough to obscure an entire trawler, and Salmon Ed and his crew were known for being loud in the mornings. The Harrands, their head family, had dealt with many complaints for the noisy crew.

There’s this blue house, it serves as a town hall, at one point a school, always a church, or a theatre, or a market. It’s a building of many uses, but its lower floor has always been living quarters.

Have you ever been lost in the woods before? On such a winters day, underneath the tall pines and their snowy white coats, with a river that’s frozen in its motion by the cold of winter’s breath.