There are dragons in my dreams. They tell me their secrets from when the world began and how our stories intertwine.
I never cared about dragons one way or another. I didn't seek out books about them or draw their pictures when I doodled. I didn't pay much attention as to why they pop up throughout the world in many cultures with their leathery wings and spiked spines and fiery breath.
But, for whatever reason, they sought me out, whispering tales in my ears and making them spill out my fingers.
And now I see them.

