Cybil Sees A Dragon
Cybil enjoys the open sea. She leaves on mini-vacations whenever the other scribes won’t miss her, or if she’s on deadline and needs to get away. Leaving the land, becoming an island unto itself out there in the midst of great blue waters – somehow it rests her mind, eases her dreams, and the writing flows.
Of course, waves can be treacherous, and she often finds herself at their whim. One wave rises completely over her boat, soaking everything around Cybil, though she only felt wet against her cheek.
Another wave rises up before the first left, and once again her entire boat is soaked and once again Cybil only feels against her cheek and inside her ear.
Until she wakes to the reality that she’s not to sea but in her own bed, that there are no waves, but her dog wants her attention. Another lick to her face and Samuel jigs as only a dog can jig when dependent on an owner fast asleep to allow them to pee. Cybil had built a door for Samuel when he was just a pup, estimating how large his breed usually grows, but he rarely used it. Now that he’s full–grown – she hopes – and his size exceeds her estimate almost threefold, the door is just an easy entry for neighborhood cats who enjoy snacking on Cybil’s tossed parchments. She should patch up the door, Cybil thinks every time that Samuel leads her outside in the dead of night or wee morning hours.
She takes him to their back door and lets the dog romp and do his business while Cybil leans against the house. She’s often just in her robe, bare feet except during the cold, and more times than not Samuel catches her snoozing where she stands. He nods her awake once again, this time to travel inside to fall asleep – hopefully.
Samuel isn’t on his ritual constitution, though, and it makes Cybil nervous. The last time he took this long, he’d met a skunk. Cybil could not handle that today. That was not a happy memory in their small house.
“Samuel?” she calls.
Where is that rustling? Her sleepy mind gets annoyed now. Can’t she just have one night of peace, dreaming of open waves and —
A low howl began, but still no sight of Samuel. There are few things in this world unfamiliar enough to Samuel that he howls.
Then again, Samuel is not entirely of this world, and the howl was not an entirely unfamiliar one, actually. Which makes Cybil even more nervous.
She creeps barefoot two steps towards the howl, the rustle, but lost any signals and now waits again in silence.
It is the time of night when all color turns deep, dense shades of indigo, purple and black – not dark, of course – just black.
Form loses its way to shadow and sounds absorb into their own state of sleep.
Cybil sees movement, maybe it’s Samuel sniffing at his new rose bush. She edges towards it – ow! as her foot slices its side about an inch on a rock or a strong branch, Cybil cannot tell.
Great. now she’’ll actually have wake up, take time to clean and disinfect it. With such a big day ahead!
Cybil lowers herself to the ground to check the damage. Bleeding but not streaming from her foot. It won’t make a mess, at the very least.
Out of nowhere Samuel bounds from the far end of the backyard and stops short directly in front of Cybil’s face; he is surprised to find her there and gestures simply that she should not look behind her.
Quietly, carefully and without much movement, Cybil turns first her eyes towards a breathing, living shadow behind her. She catches merely a glimpse of scales and wings before her eyes blink to fully wake up – to fully see what’s in front of her — and he’s vanished.
Unholy shit, Cybil says through slight tears as she grasps onto Samuels’ coat and they hug, comfort one another, as they have for as many years as she lives.