The Merlin

I wrote this little piece of flash fiction for a competition. I didn’t win, But I’d never heard of flash fiction before, so I learnt something new.

“Look, son! Merlin!”

Dad pointing at the sky, excited.

Me, sun-dazzled, looking up, searching for a swirling cape, a flash of magic.

“You’re looking in the wrong place. Over the tree. There he goes!”

After-images burn my eyes. Is that him, the golden streak on the edge of my vision.

“Yes! I see him!”

“Keep your eye on him. He’s coming down.”

My heart swells.

“Where is he?”

“On fence post, son. Look, over there.”

I can’t see the wizard.

Only a small bird, like a pigeon, sitting by the gate to the cow pasture.

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