The Mothbatdragon

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The Mothbatdragon

Body of a bat
Tongue of a moth
Tail of a dragon

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Dorothy Jones and the Mothbatdragon

Dot sat down in the coffee shop feeling agitated and sweaty. The mothbatdragon was weighing heavily on her mind. The encounter had been short, but the acid sting that the mothbatdragon could deliver in an instant had wounded her. Every Sunday without fail the beast appeared. What could she do about it? For more than a year she’d been ducking and diving in an attempt to avoid the evil monster’s intention of chewing her up and sucking out her sweet juices. Any attempt to fight back would only make the monster’s powers stronger.

The waitress came over with her bacon sandwich. It was arranged on the plate in the shape of a heart. This pleased Dot and she began to feel better. Her shoulders sank down a couple of centimetres and she turned her mind to red or brown sauce? An important question. In a fraction of a second she’d decided on brown and smothered it over the warm salty pork. A delicious sandwich. This place was a godsend. Dot kept herself to herself, but if she ever needed a place to sit and lick her wounds with the aroma of coffee filling her nostrils, this was the place to be. Sometimes Dot worried that it was an extravagance given her nonexistent income, but, in balance, it was always truly worth it for the lift it gave her spirits.