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The Little Dragon.Stoic sits the little dragon.The guardian of the table.Unmoving and unfeeling.But with the waveof pointed, polished stick,it springs to life.On little wings of splintersit hovers through the room.Floating like the leaf,caught in a cool autumn's breeze.Amber eyes swivel in the little wooden head,bright as any gem.What magic?What spell?What whimsical childish wish,could have brought it to life?Pulled not by strings.Nor guided by the air.Nor drifting upon the water.What is this little dragon's secret?Little dragon,how do you work?Who is the onewhat brought you to life?Will you tell us?Or leave us to wonder?
To Beat The Horde. Part II.I leaned against the door to my hospital room. I was more than a little worried, as anyone should be. Turns out the zombie apocalypse had started while Leon and I were asleep. And now he was not where I had left him. One of the first rules of surviving something like this is to stick together. Looks like I was already off to a terrible start.I looked around, hoping for a sign. Just then a strange growling sound came from the bathroom that my room and the room next to it had to share. I took a few cautious steps towards the sound. I gently pushed open the door and there stood Leon, his back to me. I let out a sigh of relief. Just as I was about to go to him I noticed the blood at his feet.A scream escaped before I had a chance to stop it. I didn't mean to, really I didn't. It just snuck up on me. Before the scream had even died on my lips, I was halfway down the hall.My boyfriend was a zombie. How lovely was that? What was I going to tell my parents? They want grandchildren an