“MUM! I want a dragon for my birthday!” the little girl demanded, “Nothing else will do! A BIG ONE. With scales and wings and it has to BREATHE FIRE!”
All my friends ask for ponies for their birthdays. Last year Monique actually got one, so now everyone is jealous of her for being so lucky. But not me. Ponies are boooooring. All they do is wander around the yard, and make a mess that you have to clean up (“You have responsibilities now,” your parents will say). You can’t even ride them when you get bigger, and they’re not very friendly.
I don’t care that everyone thinks that dragons are just stories in picture books and Scandinavian legends, I’m convinced that they’re real. There are house cats and wild tigers, and we have little lizards, so why shouldn’t there be extra-large lizards as well?
Anyways, I’m pretty sure I saw one the other night. I saw something, a large something, blot out the stars when I had snuck out to sit in my tree house. It was moving pretty fast, and it was dark, so I couldn’t get a good look at it, but I’m going out again tonight and I’m borrowing my dad’s binoculars.
In the meantime, I’ll keep bringing it up with my parents until I get what I want. I want my dragon, and I want it now.