Juanita and the Dragon

A terrifying scene played itself out before me this afternoon. All was peace and stillness in the house when at once, there was the red dragon! Whence it came I know not, though I fear its lair is not far from this place – I have faint memories of seeing it about these parts in the past.

Its roar alone was enough to make me rigid with fear. It was louder than anything I have experienced before. The noise of the house, traffic, even the stereo – these sounds were nothing in comparison to the ominous and piercing scream of this fearful beast. Its lungs are of iron. Its breath never runs out. And its voice: oh, horrible! Would that its like were never heard upon this earth!

It was not far from me, and getting nearer. There was nothing I could do to evade it, for I was caught in that harness which often enough gives me pleasure but now formed the fateful fetters which held me in readiness for my doom.

I screamed.

It bellowed and approached. Mum came and tried to comfort me, but what comfort is there in such days as these? She did not realise the magnitude of our imminent peril.

Then, like a modern-day St George, my Dad sallied forth in my defence. But alas, he has no spear or sword with which to slay – only his bare hands. He grasped its long, writhing neck, meaning somehow to strangle it, no doubt. All around the kitchen their furious fight raged – now nearer, now more distant, but never out of sight. Now with Dad gaining the upper hand, now with the dragon prevailing, but neither victorious.

At last the battle drifted out of view, and appeared to subside. Far away, and for a long time, I could still hear the threatening voice of the terrible monster.

Eventually, I could hear it no more. But somewhere, in the bowels of the earth, it is waiting and watching. Let nobody disturb it!

Click here to view photographs of the dragon.