Tilting at Windmills

I couldn’t resist this photo-prompt from Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer.  Hope you enjoy it!  Thanks to TJ Paris!

Tilting at Windmills

Donald took a deep breath. This would be the biggest moment of his life, a life which until today had been sentenced to menial chores around the farm. Well, he wouldn’t stand for it any more. Let somebody else carry grain to the mill! He was already nine, and life was passing him by. Well, no more.

He’d need to prepare. He grabbed his lance, an old post that he’d spent most of last summer filing the end down to a point. He strapped on his armor, the pots and pans that he had scavenged from Mom’s kitchen. The family dog watched him at this with some interest, thumping his tail dutifully on the floor.

Don leaned down and pet the dog, who got up to follow him as he strode from the house.

“Come on, Sancho. Today, we set things right.”

Today, he escaped monotony! Today, he freed himself of the giants that loomed over him.
Today, he’d be tilting.