Bobby and His Dragon

I’m trying out some direct sales through this site in preparation for Ginnie Dare and some other projects. So in order to test this I’ll be offering a cute little middle grades level story I’ve written that’s available nowhere else. It’s only $.49 for a story that clocks in at 3400 words. Well worth it in my opinion.

I also made the e-pub myself so I’m a bit proud of that.

A preview for those who’d like one:

Bobby had never been a very practical boy. At least that’s what his teachers always told him. Being raised by his Mom and Dad to always seek the most interesting solution to any problem, rather than the easiest, probably had much to do with that.

“Son,” Dad would say, patting Bobby’s shaggy brown hair, “life is too short to treat every situation like some sort of porcelain doll. If your answer ruffles some feathers, then you’re probably on the right track. If you’re wrong, then just keep trying.”

So when the lad saw his first dragon, he took it at face value, rather than assuming he had gone off his rocker.

It was at least as long as his arm and had iridescent pink scales, not much at all like the ones he’d read about in faerie stories. His instinct was to attempt to catch it and perhaps make it a pet. Mom and Dad had promised him a dog or a snake for his eleventh birthday, which was rapidly coming up. This would be so much more cool and provided that it wasn’t a baby one, likely to end up the size of a car, he didn’t see why they would object.

The trick was, how exactly did one catch a dragon? There was no book on his shelf that included that particular bit of information. Most of them concerned themselves with matters of killing and that just didn’t sit well with him. In addition to being impractical, Bobby also had a soft heart. Unfazed by the lack of any humane answers, he came up with his own idea. It seemed reasonable that a straightforward snare should work. He learned to make one in Scouts the year before. They weren’t the best option and he knew that snares could hurt the target animal, but since he’d be keeping a close watch on the whole situation he thought it would work well enough.

He constructed the primitive trap in his back yard, near the fountain his Mom built to complement her Zen rock garden. He’d sighted the pink dragon there on several occasions, sunning itself. The hi-test fishing line had come out of dad’s tackle box and according to the label could hold up to a sixty-five pound fish. There was no way that the thing could weigh more than that. The line was also practically invisible against the white stone. Just to make sure, he sprinkled some white sand over it.

What seemed like hours passed as he watched from the sliding glass window that looked out over the entire back yard. Mom and Dad had left him home alone for the afternoon, each pursuing their separate hobbies, confident that the boy wouldn’t get into much trouble on his own. Just when he was ready to give up for the afternoon, there was a flash of movement near the top of the privacy fencing that encircled their property. It resolved into the shape of the dragon and he watched it as it floated through the air, barely moving its fragile looking wings. After a few circles around the area, it landed on the sturdy branch of an apple tree near the rear corner of their lawn.

Exhaling the tension from his little body, he waited now for the dragon to discover the bait. He didn’t know what smaller dragons ate. There was much talk in the book about virgins and that sort of thing. Figuring they were meat eaters, he had taken a can of Snowball’s cat food and sat it near the snare. It smelled awful to him, but their fat, white Persian loved it.

The speed with which the beast moved to the can caught him off-balance. Before Bobby could blink it grabbed the can in its forelegs and flew to a perch on the fountain. Looked like it was time to take a more direct approach. He said a prayer to his guardian angels, someone had once said that a boy like him would need more than one, and opened the door slowly.

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