Jane Jago’s Daily Drabble – Three Hundred and Forty-Eight

Hell, she thought moodily, had to be people. 

She looked back at the huge marquee and it seemed to her that noises of the crowd had quite the inconsequence of a braying donkey.

It wasn’t possible to take off the dreadful dress, but she abandoned the satin slippers and walked barefoot to the little stream that meandered along the bottom of the meadow.

Careless of her finery she sat in the fragrant grass and cooled her toes. 

A flash of brilliant blue speared her gaze. 


She turned and smiled into a pair of eyes as blue as the dragonfly…

©jj 2019

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