The Dragon Hunts

 
by David Michael
 
Clomp! Clomp! Clomp!
 
The dragon stomped through the house, looking for its prey.
 
The dragon paused at a door, and peered in with one reptilian eye. It could see a man, his back to the door, typing on his laptop, oblivious.
 
The dragon held its breath, and pulled its wings in. Slowly, the dragon placed one clawed foot into the room, then another, creeping up on the man.
 
Type-type-type.
 
The man paused then, and leaned back in his chair.
 
"What am I doing wrong?" he muttered.
 
The dragon froze, not daring to move. Had the man seen it? The tips of its wings quivered. It prepared to flee or pounce, waiting for the man to make his move.
 
"Ah," said the man, still muttering. "That's what I'm doing wrong. I'm being an idiot." He sat up again, punched a key with one finger, hard, several times, then started typing as he had before.
 
The dragon waited, resisting the urge to let out a breath in relief. The man would surely hear that.
 
It edged closer.
 
Closer.
 
The dragon's snout came within inches of the man's ear.
 
The typing ceased again. The dragon, startled, nearly gave itself away. But it kept its nerve.
 
"Damn it," the man muttered. "Now what?"
 
He didn't lean back this time, though. He immediately started punching the same key as before, harder this time, and for longer. Then he reached for the cup of water he kept on his desk, and took a long drink as he stared at the screen.
 
The dragon waited until the man had replaced the cup in its coaster, then it attacked.
 
Squeaker-squeaker-squeaker!
 
"Augh!" cried the man, spinning around in his chair.
 
The little girl holding the dragon squealed, then giggled. She laughed and dodged her Daddy's hands as he grabbed for her, also laughing, then ran out of the room, taking her inflatable, plastic dragon with her, wings flapping.