“May I help you?” the manager asked.
“I’m looking for a girl. A young scrawny thing. Plastic pail.”
“Yes, ma’am. The ladies told me. There is no such girl here. Maybe you have us mistaken for the Tropic Mart?”
“No, I have not,” I said, loud enough to cause a young couple, their cart full of wine and cheese and fruit, to veer away.
“Ma’am, please. Can we talk in my office, or outside if you prefer?”
“Certainly. As soon as you tell me where that little girl is,” I yelled.
The dragon circled above him. It was big enough to swallow him whole. I could feel it wanting to. I wanted it to. And I wasn’t sure I could control it if I tried.
“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
The dragon thrashed. Soda bottles fell to the floor. Through the big windows I saw a police car in the lot
