Drag On

What did Dorothy feel like after her house had been blown by some tornado into another world with lunatic midgets and dwarves, singing gaily around her as she just gaped bewilderedly at this sort of candy land place?

Maybe she’d taken speed or LSD, gone high on sharpies or something.

And what on earth did she have to say about those two feet sticking out beneath her overturned house?

Yah, where’d she get those guts to steal those ruby shoes, was it their glittery-ness that tempted her to do such a dishonorable thievery toward a deceased green skinned thing?

Well, I would have pinched myself and told them all, “I never asked for this kind of dream! How the hell did my mind come up with such creativity?”

And I would have slapped that ‘good witch’ silly for not telling me I coulda gone home all along, yah, you just wanted to have fun torturing me didn’t you?

Well. Now I’m in Dorothy’s shoes once again.

Except I’m just wearing mismatched St. Patrick’s Day stockings, all green and Irish-y.

I tried clicking them together but it didn’t work. Nope.

This dragon thing is still staring at me with huge eyes bigger than my own head.

Everyone’s cheering over there, they think I’m supposed to be happy. Yah, come over here and waddle into my stockings, if you’re happy, you can change your name to Jonias Kerch. I’d love that. And I could take your identity and live a droll normal life, just the way I like it.

But nah, I get this ‘wonderful, legendary’, gigantic and huge dragon thing with bronze scaly skin and gleaming golden eyes… wings that beat the sky and those claws that could rip the earth apart.

Should I be afraid?

More like pissed.

Where’s my shoes? I’d like a piece of rubber to chuck at this new lifelong partner I’ve gained.

It keeps staring at me as if I’m supposed to love it. Well, you chose the wrong one, yo.

And yo think I like you either?

I blinked. Had it just… spoke to me?

I rubbed my forehead and shook my head, telepathy is wayyy cliché, yo, why isn’t it like, sign language with toes or something.

And if you think dragons are so cliché too…

You even know what cliché means?

The dragon gave me a stare, as if saying, I don’t care, let’s just go already.

I found my worn out Nike sneakers somewhere in this pile of mess. My foster parents were trying to give me some sort of congratulations, truth was that, they were pretty much baffled.

Who knew that some sort of drop-out-ish student and failure in life would actually get something all the kids on earth were dying for.

Elise was holding up pretty well, she was beaming and grinning like crazy, petting her blue dragon like she’d known it all her life. Maybe that’s what I should be doing.

But I really don’t want to do that.

I ignored the dragon for a while, tying my laces slowly while listening to the announcer eat it all up.

I threw a fork at the stupid radio. Like that’ll shut it up.

Stupid announcer keeps pronouncing my name all wrong! What’s that? Yah, Grunk’s making poses with his muscular dragon, wow the dragon sure reflects the human. Great! Like anyone cares! I don’t!

I think there are hairs in my throat. That’s how pissed I am. I don’t care about what they’re doing, what I’m supposed to be doing, those people who stare at me because I’m not supposed to have gotten this dragon.

I glare at the dragon yawning in my face and blowing large drops of saliva at me.

Don’t think I like you either.

You’re right. I don’t expect that.

I double knotted my laces. Just for fun.

Okay, yah. Let’s go. So, what do I do? Get on your back or what?

Just get on.

I crawled onto the scaly bronze back, and the creature began flapping its heavy wings, those things I had scorned at when I saw them in pictures.

Now, grasping on tightly in fear of slipping, in fear of falling…overwhelmed by the wind and the exhilaration…

This thrill was actually… interesting.

So, er, does your kind have a gender? I asked telepathically.

I’m supposedly a girl.

I see. Got a name?

Fenora.

That’s bizarre. Just call me Jo.

Jo. That’s also bizarre.

I think we get along pretty well.

: And they’re clearing off! Kicking off the dust…or grass… and heading toward the deep blue sky! Yah, it’s a good day to fly! Everyone be waving bye now! 11 a.m., one sunny noon clearing in now. Got your sunscreen ready? It’s gonna be hot! Hot, baby, hot! :