ImageI hear them at night. Dragons breathing as they swoop low, close to the windows of my house, then whoosh up to the sky over Kachemak Bay. Their great tails nick the edge of the garbage can on my deck. One little breath expressed, and fishing floats scatter on my front porch.

In another time, before understanding, but when imaginations could render dragons for eyes to see, the dragons’ breath caught the sparks from fire pits , then cobbled chimneys. With their awful breath, they spit consuming fire.

I am tucked inside a house built to protect against the elements. It’s so tight that there’s a system to exchange inside air for what’s outside. The windows are snug and double-glazed, but I can hear the dragons. In another time, before understanding, I would have been freaked out. The wind here is big.

Copyright 2013-2014 Genie Hambrick

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