Dragons don't exist they said. They are the stuff of legend and people's imagination.

Greg would have agreed

with this assessment without a second thought 24 hours ago. But now that there was a dragon staring directly
into his eyes, he questioned everything that he had been told. It was a rat's nest. Not a literal one, but that is what
her hair seemed to resemble every morning when she got up. It was going to take at least an hour to get it under
control and she was sick and tired of it. She peered into the mirror and wondered if it was worth it. It wasn't. She
opened the drawer and picked up the hair clippers. There are different types of secrets. She had held onto plenty
of them during her life, but this one was different. She found herself holding onto the worst type. It was the type
of secret that could gnaw away at your insides if you didn't tell someone about it, but it could end up getting you
killed if you did. They argue. While the argument seems to be different the truth is it's always the same. Yes, the
topic may be different or the circumstances, but when all said and done, it all came back to the same thing. They
both knew it, but neither has the courage or strength to address the underlying issue. So they continue to argue.
Out of another, I get a lovely view of the bay and a little private wharf belonging to the estate. There is a
beautiful shaded lane that runs down there from the house. I always fancy I see people walking in these
numerous paths and arbors, but John has cautioned me not to give way to fancy in the least. He says that with
my imaginative power and habit of story-making a nervous weakness like mine is sure to lead to all manner of
excited fancies and that I ought to use my will and good sense to check the tendency. So I try. What were they
eating? It didn't taste like anything she had ever eaten before and although she was famished, she didn't dare ask.
She knew the answer would be one she didn't want to hear. Stranded. Yes, she was now the first person ever to
land on Venus, but that was of little consequence. Her name would be read by millions in school as the first to
land here, but that celebrity would never actually be seen by her. She looked at the control panel and knew there
was nothing that would ever get it back into working order. She was the first and it was not clear this would also
be her last. There was something beautiful in his hate. It wasn't the hate itself as it was a disgusting display of
racism and intolerance. It was what propelled the hate and the fact that although he had this hate, he didn't
understand where it came from. It was at that moment that she realized that there was hope in changing him. She
sat in the darkened room waiting. It was now a standoff. He had the power to put her in the room, but not the
power to make her repent. It wasn't fair and no matter how long she had to endure the darkness, she wouldn't
change her attitude. At three years old, Sandy's stubborn personality had already bloomed into full view. Ten
more steps. If he could take ten more steps it would be over, but his legs wouldn't move. He tried to will them to
work, but they wouldn't listen to his brain. Ten more steps and it would be over but it didn't appear he would be
able to do it. There was a time when this wouldn't have bothered her. The fact that it did actually bother her
bothered her even more. What had changed in her life that such a small thing could annoy her so much for the
entire day? She knew it was ridiculous that she even took notice of it, yet she was still obsessing over it as she
tried to fall asleep.