Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Thousand: Five Hundred Forty-Two

dragon’s way. The dragon coughs and a puff of ash whirls out of both nostrils. “Oh dear. Dear, dear,” says the dragon, scratching behind a green ear with a black claw. “Frankly, I think the traffic, the weather, the stock market, the vegetables, and the mood on Mount Olympus have been sounding same-y lately. I think they could do with a little shaking up. A little rumba romba timba tumba. Did you like the way I rhymed ‘flooding disaster’ with ‘market forecaster’?” “I wasn’t listening.” “No?” The dragon’s wheezy chuckle preceded another series of shallow coughs and their attendant ashy


Elisabeth said...

I'm all for 'A little rumba romba timba tumba', too. I like the sound of this dragon. Thanks.

Glenn Ingersoll said...

Dragon likes the sound of him being liked.