Flash fiction for the Write On Purpose Facebook group. I'd love spending a day as a Supersaurus! That sounds fun.
When I was a kid, pretending to be a dinosaur was my jam.
My behemoth frame shifts with every lumbering footfall. Long, long neck outstretched, I survey the vast plains beyond and below me, searching for my favorite foliage. My snakelike thin tail waves behind me, buffeted by the brisk wind.
I am the largest.
A herd of Dryosaurus crosses my path. Neither party flinches—they are small and agile enough to easily slip between my columnar legs, and I am slow and careful enough to avoid them. I am almost more a piece of the Jurassic landscape than something that lives in it, a scaly ship cruising these dry lands with my constant plodding.
I come across a patch of mud and squelch through it. Every footstep creates a crater, and when the rains come again, these will become ponds that smaller creatures will gather around to quench their thirst.
I am a life-bringer.
Thick billowing clouds sail on the horizon behind distant mountains. I crane my neck to look at them and change my course. I am ever moving, not only in search of more food, but for the sheer joy of it, the joy of being. Pterosaurs wheel overhead and call out to each other with their melancholy cries. An Allosaurus passes me by, a look of respect in her amber eyes as she goes in search of a meal more her size. I return the gesture with a bellowing snort and a nod of my head, wishing her a good hunt, for she too is an important part of this world.
And then I am left alone with the earth and sky once more, to continue my work of shaping my planet to watch the little ones thrive on it, and take joy in that.
I am a titan queen.