CREATIVE WRITING: CONVERSING WITH THE DRAGON

Writing challenge: Envision a dragon. Do you battle him? Or is the dragon friendly? Use descriptive language.

This one was fun for me because I love dragons. Enjoy this little creative short!

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The dragon slowly lifted his massive head and stared at me with a single, reptilian eye of burnished copper. Its red scales shimmered in the light that fed into the cavern from outside. The last thing I expected to find on my hike was a dragon. The cave opened into a massive cavern that held the creature of myth and legend. And I stood at the edge of an outcropping eye to eye with him.

Thunder rolled across the valley and I glanced over my shoulder before turning back to the dragon. Considering he didn't eat me right away, I counted myself lucky. The storm is what chased me into the cave. And, apparently, to the dragon. I swallowed and nervously smiled. "Um...hello?" I said. Did dragons even understand English?

"Sit down, little human, before you fall. The storm will last awhile and I have not had the pleasure of someone's company in a long time."

When a dragon invites you to sit with them, you sit. As it turns out, the ledge I was standing on was only a few feet from the cavern floor. That was good! I looked around the floor curiously. There were no bones, no gold, no gems. "Where's your hoard?" I blurted. I slapped my hands over my mouth.

The dragon laughed. It was a deep throaty rumbling, a cross between a diesel engine and a cat's purr. "Where's my hoard?" the dragon repeated. He slapped his long, spiny tail on the floor in glee. It caused a small shower of pebbles to rain down on us. "Where's my hoard?" he said again. I swear, his voice rose an octave. "Oh, little human. Why do I need a hoard in this modern world? My...hoard," he chuckled, "is in the bank."

"Wait. You use a bank?" I was confused. "What kind of dragon are you?"

He set his head back down. "One that walks among you who needed a weekend away from the wife and kids." He closes his eyes. "Come down here and nestle against my scales for warmth and rest."

I stared at him for a moment and did as he asked, following the path to my right to the floor. He was warm and comfortable to lean against. "So, you're a modern dragon?"

"Oh no. I'm quite old. From the days of knights in armor, round tables, and wizards."

I sat up. "You mean Merlin and Camelot?" I asked breathlessly.

"Yes. "Let me tell you my story," he replied as I settled back against him. "It all started on a stormy night in Cornwall..."

Copyright 2022, Beth A. Freely