Hi ATS story-tellers and readers.
Here's my dragon story:
"
A Letter Form A Dragon:
You humans are such hypocrites.
You burn, lash and flay one another, yet you discriminate against me for being a dragon!
Since they first found me as an egg in a Peruvian cave, you’ve done nothing but make me feel lonely and segregated.
Although I never learnt how to make much more than a spark as a young dragon, the teachers in the laboratory always washed out my jowls with soap.
Yeah, even when I just accidentally yawned, farted or sneezed, and set a textbook or desk on fire.
Later I was good enough to light up cigarettes or water pipes as a party trick.
Ooh, look at Puff, he’ll light it up because he’s the “magic dragon”.
Bah, what a bunch of losers, and yet I enjoyed being the token dragon for a while.
It wasn’t all bad – I didn’t mind playing baseball with my tail, or chewing kilos of tobacco, or downing beer kegs by the liter.
The inscription on my egg said I needed gold to eat, and I recall the bitter constipation when my foster mom tried to shove Dollar notes down my
throat.
That was just stupid, as if I could survive on a metaphor. Duh.
No wonder I like wearing my bling, in case I ever need a snack.
I’ve never needed much, and don’t get me wrong - I’m very grateful to my beneficiaries and the Wildlife funds that support me as an endangered
species.
Still, I sometimes feel that as a thirty-year-old dragon I’ve never had a true friend.
It’s like the first time somebody handed me a cake of soap, and it was rasped away by my scales within a second.
I feel that since then nobody has really trusted me again.
But what can I give back … only an empty claw?
I’m not trusted or fit enough for anything else any more – I can’t even fight for any country, because I’m “endangered”.
I’m like a novelty dragon who outlived his fifteen minutes of scariness.
I even make people yawn in Wagner operas nowadays.
And don’t even tell me about the girls.
They love to pose for adverts, while I wrap my tail around them, like a goofy, grinning anaconda.
They love to be wined and dined around my cheese fondue cauldron.
But try to have a date and meet the parents!
My sensitive ears can hear the conversations in the kitchen: “Honey, we’re not speciesist, and we don’t mind that your brother keeps a pet
iguana. It’s OK to be friends with this dragon, but there’s no future in this relationship”.
Just because I coughed by mistake and set the Christmas decorations on fire.
The way these mothers carry on, one could swear I sweat uranium, and that their daughters will have an egg next week!
One drunken night I got so lonely that I spiked my spines, and flew all the way to Scotland to look for Nessie.
It almost caused a global nuclear defense crisis.
They kept me in a cage for months afterwards.
Then they clipped my wings – just because I was searching for love.
Did I find her?
That’s for me to know.
A gentleman never reveals such things.
Well, that’s a bit of my life as a dragon.
I know we all have problems, but I have centuries of them to go.
Look, it’s not all hell.
I have my estate and my little luxuries.
As long as I toe the line of the zoo and my sponsors.
Maybe after a century or so I’ll get so lonely that I’ll swim back to Nessie.
I’m sure you will all understand if I try.
Peace out – Puff".
edit on 13-1-2015 by halfoldman because: (no reason given)