Short Story: Dragon For Sale

Short Story: Dragon For Sale

Okay the thing that you have to understand about dragons is that you can’t trust ‘em. My dragon’s called Clive. I didn’t name him by the way, the dragon master named him when he hatched, so he’s Clive. Whenever the dragon master comes round to check on him he’s all sweet and cute, tiny little sparkles through his nostrils and his tail wrapped round his toes. Ten minutes later he’s scorched all the clothes on the line and he’s destroying Mum’s roses playing tailball with his mates.

The other day I came home from a sleepover at Dustin’s. I like going to Dustin’s. His mum’s a brilliant cook and his dad’s a mountain dwarf and you know how big they are.

There’s always tons of great things to eat and his dad takes us out to play Belly Cave. That’s where we get to hide in the folds in his belly or thumb bungy where he ties us to his thumb with a bungy cord and we bounce up and down like yoyos. It’s more fun than a trampoline but don’t tell any of the mums ‘cos were not supposed to play it during term time in case we break something and miss lessons.

Anyway as I was saying I came home and Dad had already taken Clive for his hover but he won’t clean out the stable for me. Can’t say I blame him, have you ever smelled dragon poo? I went in with the barrow and the spade and got stuck in shovelling all the - well you know what, I gave him fresh water and straw and boulders. You have to give ‘em boulders to grind their teeth otherwise they get too long. It’s great though because they don’t swallow it and after a couple of minutes chewing it’s small enough to sell as gravel for drives and patios, win, win situation really.

I was putting the tools away when I saw it. At first I thought it was a piece of boulder that he’d missed and gave it a kick. Yeah that was smart wasn’t it kicking a boulder. Well I never said I was any sort of a genius but even I admit that was a bit dim. Thing was though it wasn’t a boulder and where I kicked it, it dented. I scrabbled into the corner and dragged it out. As soon as I got it into the light and saw the rainbow sparkles I knew. Blinking Clive had nicked an egg from the dragon masters truck. Little blighter just can’t help himself. It’s the sparkly bits that get him.

I put it under the straw in the corner, got to keep 'em warm. So thing is, does anybody want one, a dragon that is. It’ll be hatching in about a week, there’ll be murder if Mum finds out so I’ve got to find it a home by then. So anybody want one send me an email. I’ll pay the postage.