By Annabelle Kennedy, TIWP Student

“They say dragons aren’t real, but I know better.” 

“If I had never time traveled, none of this would have happened.” 

Talons screeched across the rooftop of the Safeway, scoring deep grooves and causing it to buckle as though it had been punched by a giant fist. Crimson wings blocked my eyesight, but as far as I could see, people were running, tripping over one another in their haste to get away from the ‘dirty great flying lizard’ (which is what I heard one person scream as he ran away clutching a bag of groceries) that was soaring overhead. 

I sighed with frustration and put my head into my hands. So far my attempts to reintroduce dragons to the 21st century folk was going splendidly. This was made worse by the fact that the dragon in question wasn’t trying to eat them or burn them to a crisp, but was making squeaky roars of excitement and trying to affectionately headbutt most of the people that passed. But the people didn’t see it that way. 

“If I had never time traveled, none of this would have happened!” I growled as the dragon picked up a crate of oranges with one hind foot and tossed all of them into his mouth in one go. 

The time travel thing was complicated. I discovered it three years ago. I was just a child then, which was ideal, as children’s minds were more flexible and easily accepting of the strange and bewildering. Adults usually could only do two or three jumps before they went insane, both from the sheer shock of going back through time, and the pressure it put on the psyche and the body. I had been one of the more curious explorers, and amid my travels I had realized that dragons had existed among humans for a longer period of time than anyone had realized. They had just stayed far enough away from us to make us believe otherwise. They said dragons aren’t real. But I knew better. Why else would I have been riding one down Balboa street at three in the afternoon? 

I peered through the binoculars hanging around my neck and spotted two figures walking down the street, unflinching before the huge scaly beast that flapped above them. People cleared out of their way like a cat with an out of control Roomba. 

I pursed my lips and guided the dragon to the ground, sliding out of the saddle and to the ground. 

“Come on, Talon,” I turned to the dragon. “Let’s go explain my little escapade to the Mayor of San Francisco.”