The Magic Show

The evening Magic Show was evacuated.

The police bellowed for order, as stricken audience members fled.

Animal Control responded, to the numerous cries of “There’s a griffin in the concert hall!”

The perpetrator, apprehended, sat tearful and dumbfounded.

Questioning anyone who could hear him, about the whereabouts of his rabbit.

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Concerning dragons

He fixed me with a baleful stare as my pencil scratched.

No wings. Or flames.

Nevertheless, I still fancied myself a modern St George or Beowulf, heart hammering against my ribs, my sketchpad my sword.

Bored with his audience, he slunk away, leaving me to gloat about meeting a dragon.