The Tiny Dragon
"Pardon me, my lady, but would you care to see a dragon?” the polite, almost lyrical voice asked amidst the fading sounds of the passing parade that left strands of confetti in its wake. “I bet it’s a lizard,” I thought. “It’s the same old gimmick at every Renaissance Faire.” None the less, I turned to face the speaker. I was slightly surprised to find an attractive man with wavy, copper hair and a short scruffy beard holding out his hand to me with a smile. I returned his smile and decided to be polite; I was there to have fun after all. “Sure,” I replied looking into his open palm and poking out a finger to pet the lizard’s miniature head. It was not a lizard, however but what I could only describe as a very tiny dragon, complete with wings folded at its sides. I even thought I felt a small amount of moist heat near the mouth, like steam issuing from a tea pot. It was unlike anything I had ever seen outside of a movie theater. “Wow,” I whispered, “It really d