Here There Were Dragons

Samuel answered the phone at the reference desk. A very, very deep voice said, “Please come outside. I need some help using the library.”

“Ohhhh-kay. Hey Val, someone outside wants help, watch my desk?” Then he walked outside. He was about to go back inside when a reptilian head the size of a Subaru came down to his level from the roof.

“Would you bring me your maps?” Its voice was echoes of stones grinding in the depths of a cave.


“Yes. I’d rather not destroy your library by coming in for them.”

“Uh… sure.” When he returned with the current atlas, the dragon asked him to turn the pages. Giant claws, it explained, are rarely safe for thin paper.

“Don’t worry, Sam,” Val called from inside. “I’ll cover your desk!”

“Thanks,” Samuel muttered. He helped the dragon look through the atlas. It looked at every page, though it only spent a second or two on each before asking for the next. When Samuel closed the back cover, a gallon of steaming saltwater hit the ground. The dragon was crying.

“What’s wrong, uh, dragon?”

“Maps used to tell me where other dragons were. None of them mention dragons anymore.”

This entry was posted in Fiction and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *