The Tour

**Author Note**: Sorry, 231 was the best I could get the word count down to.

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“Dad, are we really going to miss it?” Tommy asked, clutching his brass-framed slate.
George kept one hand on the steering lever and glanced at the sky. “Only if this old motor decides today's the day to die.”

The children laughed. Even Margaret smiled, though her eyes never left the giant dragonfly airship drifting above the city. Its amber lights shimmered through the mist, turning the rain-slick streets to molten gold. Around them, crowds gathered beneath the clock-tower, every face tilted upward. Some recorded the moment on pocket cameras. Others simply stared.

“It looks alive,” little Elsie whispered.

“It nearly is,” said Grandmother Rose. “Your grandfather helped build her engines.”
The children turned toward her. She rarely spoke about the old days.

Rose watched the airship glide across the skyline. “When I was your age, we dreamed machines would bring people together. Faster journeys. Wider worlds.”

“And did they?” Margaret asked softly.

Rose considered the question as the vessel's shadow passed over them.

“For a while.”

Silence settled over the car.

Then the airship sounded its deep departure horn. The crowd erupted in cheers. Tommy lowered his slate and leaned against his sister's shoulder.

As the great vessel disappeared into the clouds, the family remained where they were, listening to the fading note and wondering whether they had just witnessed a beginning, or an ending.