|The Dragon's Door|
The Dragon, so *cough* "folklore" will have it, was captured many hundreds of years ago by the good people of the town and imprisoned behind the blue doors where it lives on a pile of gold and is fed unwary toddlers who are having a bit of a strop at having to do a bit of shopping.
The Dragon has other good points too. At night it protects the city, flying the skies chasing away the terrors of the night, ghosts, monsters, aliens and, er, moths.
The ToddlerTwins were what I like to call "imaginatively suggestible," - though most other people would call it absurdly gullible - but they loved the Dragon Tales. EVERY time we went to town we would tip-toe past the doors and they would strain their ears for a distant dragon noise.
But as they couldn't tell what a dragon might actually sound like, the distant revving of an engine and an industrial clank could quite happily pass as a bit of dragon restlessness within the walls.
When the ThirdGirl arrived, it was only a matter of time before the Twins - five years older than her ... shared the secret of the Dragon's Door. The ThirdGirl was equally entranced but thoroughly skeptical. She asked A LOT of questions....
WHY a dragon?
Why not a dragon? You've got to keep a dragon SOMEWHERE.
And what does it DO all day?
It sleeps because it's out frightening MOTHS all night. Obviously.
Why can't I hear it?
Well maybe if we wait a little while...
*waits a little while*
I STILL can't hear it, doesn't it snore. Dragons probably snore. And the gold would clank. If it moved. I can't hear it. How do YOU know it's there *doubtful look*
I do because, er, I do. Now *brightly* let's go SHOPPING! *big smile*
*drags by arm*
Oooh, let's go buy sweeties. Yes?
And then The Small Boy came. And The Small Boy heard the same old tales from his twin sisters and his sister. The Small Boy too was entranced. The Small Boy too asked questions.
Then The Small Boy got on his knees and ..HE ... LOOKED ...UNDER ... THE.... DRAGON'S.... DOOR
|LOOKING UNDER THE DRAGON DOOR|
And he got to his feet and dusted his grubby hands off in exactly THAT way that a mechanic does just before he sucks his teeth and gives you a quote.
He said: "There's not a dragon."
Well, it's probably sleeping somewhere.
There's not a dragon. There's just road. What's a dragon need road for?
Erm, well, you know like a heli....
There's not a dragon. There's a road. AND people AND cars. There's no dragon. *stomps off*
One Dragon: Dead.
I'm linking this post with #TheThemeGame over at The Reading Residence
Check out everyone else's entries there