One morning she woke up to find
she was a dragon. It was kind
of a surprise. She held her breath,
exhaled slowly and gasped out sharp
little bursts of flame. She enjoyed
that. She also liked the steam that
curled from her nose when she thought of
hateful things. It was much better
than what she was used to. Her skin
was like armour and she liked that
best of all. At the office she
practiced being impervious,
reading mail sent by bad people
with bad intent. The scent of hell
rose up behind her eyes. This was
new and exciting. “You are my
one and only,” read a letter
that used to make her dizzy, but
this time the words and the rage and
the screen and everything else in
the room melted into a lake
of fire. She did not feel a thing.
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