Mike Crayton

Dr.Kissler

College Writing

Monday February 21 1998

As you are awakened by the shrill morning yelp of the local farmerís rooster, you emerge from your hut in a small woodland village. The morning sun glistens slightly off the emerald green grass as the local villagers start about their work for the newly starting day.

When you finally venture down the small wooden ladder that protrudes from your front porch, you take notice of the small brook that runs out toward the surrounding areas. Small children frolic around you gingerly like the wind blowing through the tall saw grass on a mid-western plain. All the while, the local merchants peddle their wares around to the local shoppers.

As you look slightly to your left you notice a small group of people crowded around a merchants stand. The crowd grows larger and it draws your attention. When you finally get to the large group, which now resembles a group of bees buzzing and swarming around a beehive, you look in awe at the beautiful items the merchant has placed upon his table to draw the attention of the shoppers. Finally, as the crowd gets too suffocating for you, you head toward the small pond at the end of the townsquare that is the source of the tiny brook.

As you plop down on a weathered rock a minute, topaz colored frog hops next to you and stares at you with bulging eyes as if it was staring into the deepest part of your being. As quickly and swiftly as the miniscule frog appeared, a slight plinking sound is heard as you watch your amphibious friend dive into the crisp,
sparkling water. Looking at the water whets your palette, you decide to take a drink from the water. The cold water cuts like a razor, but at the same time feels so refreshing.

Suddenly, a dark shadow passes over the glowing afternoon sun. You gaze up and see a gigantic silver winged dragon sweeping across the landscape and casting what seems like an eternal darkness on the tiny wooded alcove that you call your home. You gaze in awe as the glimmering light of the sun slowly starts to illuminate the townsquare once again, while the great beast soars off to toward the rocky crags that lie in the west. The sheer monstrosity of the dragon flabbergasts little children, many of whom have never seen such an awe-inspiring spectacle in their young lives. While you sit there and listen to the young children spin yarns to their friends about the sighting of the dragon, it reminds of the old villagers who sit on the porch of the local ale hall and converse with locals and travelers about days of yore.

Once again you notice the light in the square growing darker, but this time it is from nature and not a winged creature. You decide to head back to your house, looking forward to the nice long sleep that awaits you as you fall into your soft, supple bed.