I am in the worlds most terrible mood, I am at work and I am raging angry at nothing, so warning, what follows might be rubbish and might not be very nice.
On the day the dragons came the world stopped for an instant. No one noticed, because everything stopped. heartbeats paused, and thoughts hung and sentences were suspended half uttered. And then the world went on again and no one was any the wiser. No one knew when the dragons came, no one knew where they came from, or why they came, or even what they were. No one knew what they looked like. No one knew they were there.
They move in shadows, and are shadows in part. When they are about the world seems bleak and grey, the shadows seem longer and darker. They can make colours stand out brightly against one another. The sweeping and untargetable sadness? that is the dragons. The empty, lonely questions? in them lies the dragons. The futile sourceless anger, the niggling doubt is called out by dragons. When the dragons gaze sweeps over you, your entire body shudders. People say "someone walked over my grave", but the dragons gaze knows more of death than any other, and souls flinch from them.
They come and go, from shadow to shadow, from darkness to darkness, unheralded. We all fight them, some better than others. I do not know if they can be conquered.
But I know there are more now than there were.
