Copyright – Sandra Crook
Riding Penn(100 words)
“What, pray tell, am I supposed to do with it?”
“You ride Penn wherever she takes you.”
“It looks like some kind of medieval torture device.”
“She won’t bite. Well, she might, but you won’t mind.”
“How’s it work?”
“Magic?” I forgot I wasn’t supposed to arch my eyebrow at stupid people. “Seriously.”
“Seriously. Hop on.”
I grumbled as I maneuvered around the gears and belts. Situating myself in the rusty seat, I grasped the goat-horn handles. Energy surged through me into the contraption.
“Whoa!” I shouted, but no one heard.
Penn and I, we’d left the world behind.
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