28 December 2011

dragon falls to the sword.


 upon their departure from the seaside, the dragon and the lady, quite famished from having swum several leagues that morning, began hunting for a hearty meal. being opposed to the consumption of animal flesh, the pair were tantalized by mutual mind meanderings of legumes and root vegetables, but alas they could find neither. although they eventually foraged for truffles and were fully prepared to gorge themselves on the succulent green foliage nearby, the compaƱeros knew that without protein they would not be sustained for long, and plunged northward away from the sea to find more food.

after little success acquiring nutrition, the lady and the dragon ventured into a cave where they planned to spend the night. luckily neither feared the dark for they had only a small lump of paraffin for light. they heard bats chirping overhead as they explored the cave in the hopes of finding a comfortable wall to rest against.
just as they were settling in to the coziest spot - albeit dank and guano-soaked - a hulking, sinister-looking man stepped into view wearing what the lady and the dragon immediately recognized as the Wayne family crest. his face obscured by a black rubber mask, complete with pointy ears, the terribly tall figure brandished a shining silver sword. in a fury, he swung it at the dragon clipping tufts of the beast's luxuriant rust-colored locks as he brought the blade down.
"there is something out there in the darkness, something terrifying, something that will not stop until it gets revenge... me," (1) growled the man.

"are you certain?" dragon called out to the shadowy figure. "because to me, you look like my lady, except male and disguised as a medievel Batman."

"you are so right, my clever bearded friend," asserted the lady. "it is my blessed and Batman-crazed younger brother!"
"frick and frack," shouted the figure, sinking to his rubber-padded knees. as he stepped into the candlelight, it became apparent that he was indeed the lady's brother, and not from another mother but from the very same flaxen-haired, agile-minded mother who birthed them both, the mother they continued to torment with echoing belches and other baffoonery whenever they could. "sorry i nipped your coat, dragon. and nice to meet you by the way."

"you're forgiven. got any snacks? i'd settle for a sock or two," said the dragon.

09 December 2011

dragon hears mumia.

 well it turns out the wizard wasn't heading their way, but he used his glittery beard magic to make a secret tunnel go poof under the forest, and they crossed the distance to the sea easily. the dragon had never seen surf before, and was amazed at how many crabs he could terrify by simply setting one furry foot beneath the waves. the lady felt a transdimensional peace she only ever felt at the ocean. finally the road weariness caught up with her and she fell into an unshakable sleep.

“here and there
in the barrios and the favelas,
                                                   among those who have least,
                                                   beat hearts of hope,
                                                   fly sparks of Overcoming... ” (1) 

murmured a very distant voice. the dragon's hirsute hearing devices perked up instantly. he knew this voice. it belonged to a journalist he once met, and if his canine senses weren't mistaken, the voice shot straight from Greene, Pennsylvania's Death Row.

using his uncanny powers of perception, dragon ascertained that it was indeed the voice of Mumia Abu-Jamal. sensing that Mumia had been released from his overhanging death sentence, dragon thought, "i can't believe it took 30 years for those humans to wake up and smell the cruel-and-unusual punishment. now if only they could notice the not guilty seeping out of that man's pores."

Mumia-130-web
Mumia can't be silenced.
dragon could relate to cases of mistaken identity. he was after all, a fire-breathing dragon at heart despite his puppy-like externalities - a feeling he knew he shared with Mumia, who oozed innocence no matter what a jury had declared.(2)

"free all political prisoners," screeched the dragon, as the bluest ocean waves blocked the setting sun from his view.

(1) exerpt from Mumia Abu-Jamal, Death Blossoms: Reflections from a Prisoner of Conscience

05 December 2011

meeting glitterbeard on the road to damascus.

an impenetrable forest seemed to twinkle ahead of them as they were walking to the sea. dragon had a craving for surfboard, while the lady only sought an escape from -10 degree windchill. the towering trees before them dazzled all four of their eyes to near blindness.
"is it a tautology to say the trees sparkle because the trees sparkle?" waxed the dragon.
suddenly a hooded figure burst out from the woody acres carrying with it the same sparkle that lay like a mist on the ominous tree trunks. it let out a terrifying xena-like war cry as it slowed to a gentle hover just above the pair's tawny heads.
"it is no tautology, puny dragon. it is i, the wizard glitterbeard who reigns ebullience upon my brother trees!" boomed the figure.

"uh...think you can you give us a lift?" asked the lady, emboldened despite the wizard's omniscient white light and obviously potent magics.
thinking ultimately of his rumbling belly, the dragon jumped up and called, "And do you happen to have any recently-worn socks?"

02 December 2011

in the beginning.






upon retreating from the slaughter of her former self, a lady happened upon a dragon. instead of scales and claws, this dragon had tangled copper fur and paws. all at once, the lady felt at ease. the telepathy between them was strong, although sometimes, dragon thought the lady was as mad as mary todd lincoln.


"i'm bored," said dragon.

"is that a metaphor?" the lady wondered...