The dragon burp

The dragon burp

When Gregory went out in his garden one early morning he saw a tiny dragon jumping around squeaking, terribly angry. Gregory was a bit frightened and kept a good distance. "Why are you so angry?" he asked carefully. "Is it because you have lost a wing?" "Of course it is," the dragon replied. "What else could it be. I can't fly away now. And there is always some cat that doesn't know that dragons are too hot for them to eat."

The dragon stopped being angry, and examined Gregory. "That about cats reminds me that I'm quite hungry." "That's fine," Gregory remarked. "At this hour I'm the only one who is awake, so we can do as we please." Gregory lifted the dragon up in his hands. It was like holding a bird, only warmer. They went into the kitchen and sat by the table. "What shall we eat?" Gregory asked. The dragon smiled. "We dragons like a box of matches, coke, terpentine, petrol and everything that can burn." "Oh," Gregory said. "I thought we were to have toast and marmalade."

Gregory emptied ten boxes of matches in a bowl with terpentine. He put the bowl in front of the dragon and threw in a firecracker. The dragon ate it all with great appetite. "I'm glad you want to be my friend," Gregory said with his mouth full of jam. The dragon smiled, but then its stomach started to rumble. Small dots of black smoke came out of its mouth. Gregory felt sorry for the dragon, jumping on the kitchen table, its eyes becoming large and glowing.

Then the burp came. A terrible fire burp where ten boxes of burning matches poured out of the dragon mouth in a stream of burning terpentine. Finally the firecracker flew out of its mouth setting fire to the curtains, the walls and the ceiling.

"Excuse me," the dragon said. "I must have had some hot air in my stomach." At the same time the fire alarm started to ring and Gregory's parents came rushing in. His mother dragged down the burning curtains and his father squirted water on the flames. When the fire was put out and everything was just wet and black all over the kitchen, Gregory's parents demanded an explanation. The dragon looked terribly ashamed.

"I guess that's what happens when one plays with dragons," Gregory said. "Then you must take the dragon out of our house at once," Gregory's father insisted, and Gregory couldn't agree more.

Gregory carried the dragon out in to the garden again. "Please stay with me," Gregory implored. "I can build a fireproof house for you." "I can't do that," the dragon said. "I'm far too busy appearing in the fairy tales." "Really?" Gregory asked, not knowing what the dragon meant.

"When your dad reads stories about dragons, you see that dragon, don't you?" "Yes, I do," Gregory admitted. "I see a dragon just like you." The dragon smiled. "Where do you think that dragon comes from? The one you see inside your head?"

"You don't mean…" Gregory said astonished. "That's the dragon's work. When somebody starts to tell a story, one of us must be ready when the dragon enters." The dragon suddenly stared at the grass. "Careful! I thought I saw my wing, don't tread on it, it's just by your feet."

Gregory picked up the dragon wing and the dragon exposed a tiny hinge on its shoulder. It said "click," when Gregory put it on. "Good luck with your performances then," Gregory said and opened his hands to let the dragon fly. It flapped it's wings and flew up in the air. But before it left for the fairy tale country it said: "If you tell some funny dragon tales, I promise to appear in them."

Then it flew away. But Gregory has seen it many times after that, in his dragon tales.