dr shy was reading a book , he mouthed the words while his index finger moved along the lines. he read “once upon a time there was a green great dragon”. dr shy stopped reading and closed the book with a shudder. dr shy was afraid of dragons.

dragons! they were vicious and vile creatures who had tortured the earth since ages past, destroying kingdoms and devouring maidens, hoarding the spoils of their destruction in such mighty heaps of gold and silver and precious stones that no words could express the staggerment of those who chanced upon these cursed golden beds.
dragons! they came in many guises and forms, there were the silent, bestial ones who, with brute force, laid waste the lands they infested and there were the cunning evil ones who spoke lies with their forked tongues, cursing those upon whom they gazed.
dragons! there were hot worms and cold serpents and some where winged and airborne, descending in thunder from the skies upon unhappy folks and towns, and others crawled upon the earth, dragging their soft bellies in the muck of their own slime.
dragons! armies are of no avail against them, for their scaly armour cannot be pierced, not even by a thousand swords or a cloud of darts so big that it blots out the light of day, and the only weakness in their defence is their soft belly, for no matter how fierce they are or how strong, they are flawed in this that their underside is soft and it is thus that they can be defeated by the brave and bold or, so some hold, possibly those mad enough to dare and master fate itself, those who are praised as heroes when they succeed, but, whenever they fail, die a lonely unknown death in the desolation, forsaken and forlorn, those who have ventured out into the dessert seeking out the mighty beast’s lair, or those who, in a last desperate stand, defend their homesteads and their kin against the wrath of the worm, when all others have long since fled, those lonesome grim figures who remain steadfast and hold their ground while their companions lie slain around them or abandon them, breaking their oaths overwhelmed by unmanly fear, those who with plots and ploys attack the serpent at unawares, stinging it with cold and bitter iron, stabbers in the dark, piercing deep into the wielding flesh, biting the dark heart…
dragons!

dr shy looked down at the book lying in his lap and, with a little agonised yelp, threw it in the fire. and while he watched the flames lick the brittle dry paper his thoughts turned to dragon fire burning the countryside. he shivered, got up, closed the curtains and locked the door.