The golden bird is unaware of the shadow creeping through the clouds. Flying for a thousand years, it wanders endlessly, certain it will remember its ancient task.
The clouds darken. An airship bursts into the sun, airbag black as coal, gun portals open.
A shot rings out and the bird gives a cry.
It falls, and the airship dives after, cheers from within the gondola, intent on the prize.
But when the bird crashes to the ground, a plume of sudden fire strikes the sky. Screams snap short. The airbag thunders and explodes.
Hunting the phoenix is a dangerous trade.
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Hi there! I’m Odin Halvorson, a librarian, independent scholar, film fanatic, fiction author, and tech enthusiast. If you like my work and want to support me, please consider becoming a paid subscriber for as little as $2.50 a month!
