This week’s prompt: The bridge was out…




The bridge was out. Linus glanced at the misty trail that connected this realm with the mortal land. If they were lucky, the bridge would close before Porscha noticed it. If they were lucky.

The thought had hardly crossed his mind when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs of the airy tower.

Duncan rounded the corner, his grey eyes stormy. Linus sighed, deflating on his seat.

“Porscha has gone out to the mortal realm.” Duncan announced, dropping onto the second chair with a heavy thump. “Valerian caught her at the bridge, made her return the Pegasus.”

“Someone should explain to her the rules of the mortal realm.” Linus murmured.

“We did. Thrice already. She just thinks that a winged animal would make the crossing faster.”

Duncan’s own wings shifted upward in a shrug before settling down again.

“I wonder what she will bring back this time.” Linus mused. Both men glanced at the junkyard of microwaves, TVs, washing machines, refrigerators, an industrial air conditioner, an electric oven.

Duncan sighed, a long suffering exhalation of air.

“Did you explain about the mortal electric mode?”

“Twice. I had hoped I’d have one more chance before the bridge formed again.”

Just then they heard a loud whirring noise and both men leaned to see through the mists of the bridge. They heard Valerian shout something, drowned by the noise.

“What is that?” Linus asked.

“I’m not sure.” Duncan said, quickly summoning the intelligence boost pedia and teleporting the image into it. The pedia returned the info directly into his mind and Duncan chuckled.

“What?” Linus demanded.

“It’s a combat tank. Used for political feud between two or more rival countries. According to my pedia this heavy combat tank is used for warriors – human military personnel to attack and demolish an opposite line. See that long tube it carries?”

Linus glanced at it, frowning as the thing – tank – moved steadily toward them. “Hmmm.”

“It propels cannon balls.”

Alarm begin rising in Linus’s chest. Currently that tube was aimed slightly to the side, at the emperor’s tower. But the tank was moving directly toward them.

“But it looks like Porscha is doing something there, because according to the pedia those things move no faster than 40 miles per hour.”

Both men glanced at it and measured the speed in their minds. Both concluded the tank was doing at least 90 miles per hour. It was moving steadily, and belatedly they realized Porscha couldn’t have learned to drive the tank in the time she had been gone.

“Ah, man.” Duncan rose and jumped out the airy, his wings spreading wide. He landed atop the tank, moved left, right, looked up and down. Searching for a way in. He pounded a fist at the roof, stomped his feet. Took hold of the tube and pulled at it, bending it upward with a loud, irritating metal screech. But the tank kept coming, and Linus leaned forward, eyes narrowing. Muttering under his breath about spoiled, curious brats, he moved the tower aside, along with every structure he assumed would be in its path, opening the way for the tank to move harmlessly where buildings stood just a few moments before.

The tank stopped exactly at the spot the tower had been standing. A round metal flap opened and Porscha’s red head poked out, her eyes squinting at the bright sun. She smiled brightly at Duncan, waved at Linus, then jumped out of the tank and dashed again toward the misty bridge before either man could stop her.






2 Replies to “Porscha”

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