Lavender Dragonfly
A Super Short Story
The message came late enough that it felt like it belonged to a different set of people.
Ellie lay in bed with her phone angled toward her chest, the rest of the room dim except for the soft glow from her lamp. The house had gone still. Her father went to sleep an hour or so earlier, same routine, same silence that settled in after.
She almost missed the notification.
Mr. Kade: You left your notebook again.
Ellie smiled without meaning to. That part tracked. He noticed everything. Small things. Patterns. The way she drifted.
She typed back.
I’ll get it tomorrow.
A pause.
Then Kade: You do that a lot. Leave things behind.
Ellie stared at the screen.
Maybe I like having a reason to come back.
The reply came quickly.
Careful.
Her pulse picked up. She shifted under the covers, pulling the blanket up but to the side, a little.
About what?
Three dots.
Gone.
Back again.
Then:
About me.
Ellie’s breath caught.
You’re my teacher.
Yeah.
A longer pause.
That matters only if you want it to matter.
Ellie sat up, heart beating harder now.
And if I don’t?
The response took its time.
Then you stop right here. Go to sleep. We forget it.
Ellie read it twice.
There it was. A clear out.
Her thumb hovered, her mind played out scenerios.
And if I don’t stop?
A longer pause.
Then you show me.
Ellie stood, pacing once across her room, then back in bed again. The floor creaked under her weight. Her reflection caught in the mirror. She held there for a second, studying herself in different poses. She knew what this was.
She wanted it.
Ellie lifted her phone, angled it without thinking. The picture suggested more than it showed. But it showed more than she should’ve. Her young body vibrated with heat.
She hesitated one last moment.
Then sent it.
Seen.
A long pause.
You shouldn’t have sent that.
Ellie sat back down, heat draining.
I know. But I did.
No reply after that.
The next morning came as if last night was more of a dream. A steamy moment of desire that went poof with daylight.
Ellie sat at the kitchen counter with her phone in hand, the message thread still open like something she hadn’t fully closed inside herself. Her father had already gone out to check the fence line. The house felt temporarily hers.
A new message came through.
Mr. Kade: We need to talk about last night.
Ellie stared at it, her stomach tightening. Other areas warmed.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard.
About what? she typed.
She didn’t hit send.
Outside, something slammed hard against the fence.
The horse. Lavender Dragonfly.
Ellie flinched, the sound sharp enough to cut through everything else. Another thud followed, heavier this time, the animal agitated, circling too fast in the small space.
“Dammit,” she muttered, already moving.
She rushed for the door, leaving the phone on the counter.
Cold air hit her as she stepped outside.
The horse was pacing, head high, breath sharp and visible, something in the distance setting it off. Ellie moved toward it slowly, hands out, voice low.
“Easy. Easy.”
The animal shifted, hooves grinding dirt, muscles tight under its coat.
“It’s nothing,” she said softly, stepping closer, letting it recognize her voice.
Gradually, Dragonfly settled. Not calm, but less frantic.
Ellie stayed there a few moments longer, steadying her own breathing before turning back toward the house.
Tom Weller came in through the side door.
He set his keys down on the counter and reached for a glass, his attention pulled by the glow from Ellie’s phone.
He wasn’t looking for anything.
He just saw it.
The message sat there, open and waiting.
Mr. Kade: We need to talk about last night.
Tom picked up the phone.
He read the thread once.
That was enough.
Ellie stepped back inside, brushing dirt from her hands.
Her father was sitting at the table.
Her phone in his hand.
The lamp above him cast a hard light across his tight face, leaving the edges of the room in shadow.
“What is this?” he asked.
Ellie stopped.
Her chest tightened as she saw the screen turned toward her.
“It’s not what—”
“Read it again before you answer.”
She didn’t move.
“I sent it,” she said. “He didn’t ask me to.”
Tom watched her, steady.
“He told you to stop.”
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t.”
Ellie shook her head.
Outside, the horse shifted again, a heavy step pressing into the ground.
“You think that makes it better?” Tom asked.
“I made a mistake.”
Tom nodded once.
Then stood.
“I’ll fix it.”
Ellie stepped forward. “Dad, no. Please don’t.”
“I’m bringing him here.”
Mr. Kade arrived later that evening.
Ellie watched from the doorway as headlights swept across the yard, catching the fence where the horse lifted its head again, uneasy.
Tom stood outside waiting.
Kade stepped out of his car.
“You got my message,” he said.
Tom held up the phone.
Kade looked at it, then at Ellie, then back at Tom.
“I told her to stop,” he said.
“You kept going.”
“So did she.”
The words landed hard.
Tom stepped closer. “You’re the adult.”
“I gave her the choice.”
“That’s your defense?”
“It’s the truth.”
The horse shifted again, sharper now, reacting to the tension in their voices.
“Fuck you!” Tom said, while shoving Kade.
Kade stumbled backwards into the fence. But was able to grab Tom’s coat, pulling him down with the momentum.
The horse reacted instantly, a burst of movement, panic and weight.
A hoof came down on Tom
Ellie heard it.
No warning.
Just impact.
Everything went still.
Ellie froze in the doorway, staring at her father on the ground, the space between moments collapsing into something final.
Kade staggered back, hands raised, body slumping.
“I—I… Fuck!”
Ellie didn’t hear the rest.
She already knew.
This has been another Super Short Story where Substackers give me three random words and I write their story.
Thanks to Ashley Butler for providing the words: Lavender, Horse, Lamp. Be sure to give her a follow.
That was great… I want so much more of that story!
Love this one so much! 💜