Page 15 of Serving my Dragon
“I am less worried about your house than I am about myself. My kind have long been hunted by humans.”
I glanced away from my rebooting computer. “And exactly what kind do you belong to?” Because I’d yet to do a search to see what the internet spat out. Then again, I doubted I’d find a Google entry that mentioned talking lizards.
“I discovered the word watching a movie called Eragon last night. I am a dragon,” Pollita grandly announced.
Laughter burst out of me.
Pollita puffed her chest. “Your amusement is not appreciated.”
“Oh, come on, a dragon?” I scoffed as I logged into my computer.
“Because you’ve met so many,” was Pollita’s sarcastic reply.
“I think what Matias is trying to say is that your claim is a tad hard to believe, seeing how you’d be the first dragon we’ve ever met.” Kayleigh opted for a diplomatic reply.
“Obviously, since we don’t converse with just any humans.” Pollita rolled her eyes.
“I think you misunderstood. There are no dragons at all anywhere in the world. In stories, yes. Artwork and movies. But they are considered to be creatures of fiction.” Kayleigh gently added, “I am sure we will figure out soon enough what you truly are.”
“I’m a dragon,” the not-a-lizard insisted.
“Dragons aren’t real,” I muttered as I clicked my email program.
“And yet here I stand before you.”
Before I checked my loading emails, I eyed Pollita. “What I see is a kitten-sized lizard who can talk and eats more than her body weight each meal.”
“I am small because I recently hatched. And I must eat large amounts if I am to grow.”
“That makes sense,” Kayleigh replied. “Is there anything specific we should be feeding you?”
“In times long past, those who worshipped dragons would bring us livestock. However, I am quite enjoying the meals we’ve had thus far.”
“She replied,” I shouted, interrupting.
“What did Sally say?” Kayleigh leaned over to look.
My brow furrowed. “She thinks I’m trying to scam her.”
“What?”
I read the message aloud. “I don’t know who you are, asshole, but not funny pretending to be my friend. I am not stupid enough to give you her information so you can steal her identity.”
“Oh dear,” Kayleigh muttered.
“Guess we need to figure out a way to make her realize we’re telling the truth.”
“We could take a pic and send it back,” she suggested.
“Anti-virus software would keep it from opening and if your friend is smart, she won’t click.”
Kayleigh snapped her fingers. “Sally’s got an Instagram account. We’ll message her through there with a pic.”
“You know your login?”
She shook her head. “We’ll have to do it from yours.”
“I don’t have any social media.”
