“Mama, Mama?” Jesse called.
“What’s wrong? Don’t you hear him calling you?” Seb asked.
The dragon hissed at the sound of his voice.
I shooed it as if it were a neighborhood dog that had gotten too close to my kids. With a blur like a kite twisting in the wind, it disappeared.
“What are you doing, Mama?” Jesse asked.
“Nothing, sweetheart,” I said.
Remnants of the cracked egg lay on the ground, a ring of dried up brown leaves and parched soil around it.
I sat the kids down at the table and Seb served the burgers.
The dragon rose behind him, its blues and greens glowing in the late-day sun like a giant hummingbird, hovering there silently. I took a step to the side. It shifted position. I thought of the sand pipers on the beach and took another step. It matched my movements. Again.
“
