DINKY THE DRAGON
By T.B. Charles
Horace hopped out of bed.
He stretched his wings and wiggled his tail.
He opened the window.
“Good morning, sky. Good morning, sun.”
He walked in the bathroom and looked in the mirror.
Horace opened his mouth real wide. Would today finally be the day?
“Hurry up, Horace! You don’t want to be late on the first day of school,” said his mother.
Horace thought something hot to eat might help. Maybe the fire needed some coaxing. He asked for a big bowl of oatmeal with raisins and peppers on top.
“Peppers?” asked his mother. “Why peppers?”
“I don’t want to be the only dragon at school who can’t breathe fire,” said Horace.
His mother put her arms around him.
“All in good time, my dear. All in good time.”
“Find a seat everyone,” said Miss Sootspewer.
Horace sat in front of Dexter who all ready had steam coming out of his nostrils.
Miss Sootspewer told them that they were all going to practice fire breathing.
She said that it was important to do it the proper way.
“To get us started, we're going to roast some marshmallows,” she said.
First to try was Dana. She eyed the three marshmallows on the stick and took a deep breath. A small flame shot from her mouth. The fire only melted the marshmallows a tiny bit.
“Good try,” said Miss Sootspewer. “A little harder next time.”
It was now Dexter’s turn.
Dexter was getting hungry.
Those marshmallows would taste pretty good all toasty.
Dexter took a deep breath and WHOOSH…
The marshmallows…and the stick…were burnt to a crisp.
“It was a good try,” said Miss Sootspewer. “Not so hard next time.”
Dabney strutted up to the line. “Let me show everyone how to do it,” he said.
He took a deep breath. SHEEEEEW. The flame danced over the marshmallows. The marshmallows were golden brown.
“That was excellent,” said Miss Sootspewer.
Horace was nervous as he walked to the front of the class.
“All right, Horace, let’s see what you can do,” said Miss Sootspewer.
Horace closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. He opened his mouth and…Pooosh. It was just a tiny puff of air with a little smoke.
All the dragons laughed.
“Look, he can’t breathe fire,” said Dana.
The Works of T.B. Charles
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