Gone Away with Dragons
PETER REACHED UP, UP, up toward his babysitter’s elbow. She seemed preoccupied with lifting Baby Rita into the air.
He pulled his arm down and regarded his fingers. Yup; all were there. He counted. There were more than two on each of his hands, as there should be. He didn’t know which number came after “two.”
The little boy tugged on his babysitter’s leg. He wanted her to hold his hand, now! Something was moving in the dumpster.
The sitter shoved him away. She tossed Rita up again. Infant Rita cooed and gurgled. The sitter wiped away some of the baby’s drool that had landed on her face.
Movement once more echoed from the dumpster. Peter shuddered. A dumpster was too small for a mature dragon, but not its spawn. Other bad things that nibble at small children can
