The Dragon’s Day Off
by TMax
Copyright© 2026 by TMax
Fantasy Story: It's not easy being a dragon. Even they need days off.
Tags: Humor Dragons Young Adult
They say it’s easy being a dragon. But do they know a dragon? And who are they? Being a dragon is not easy. I spend my whole day guarding my mound of gold. Do you have a sibling or friend who always tries to borrow something from you? You know how hard it is to keep an eye on your stuff and your friends. Imagine that you have eight billion friends and they borrow by stealing, that is what it is like being a dragon.
Now imagine you sleep on hard metal coins, twenty-four hours a day, three hundred sixty-five days a year. It’s not easy. Yes, we dragons have hard scales, but we do have tender places. Nothing is worse than falling asleep on your sensitive belly for a couple of decades and waking with a sore stomach. The only thing worse is when gold coins get lodged under your scales, which happens a lot, in the hundreds. After two thousand years of sleeping, I needed a day off.
But how does a dragon take a day off? I can’t just advertise - ‘Are you trustworthy? A dragon needs you to watch his horde of gold for a much-needed day off. Serious inquiries only. PS: I promise not to eat you unless you do a bad job.” You can see the problem. The treasure hunters will apply, then steal all my gold, which means I have to track them down and eat them. And I hate the taste of Humans.
But I did have an idea. I would advertise that I needed a babysitter, after all, each gold coin is like a baby to me. Then I tell them that the babies are asleep in the room and not to go in there.
It worked; I hired a nice fourteen-year-old to hang out and scroll their phone. I even ordered them a pizza, just pepperoni, as I’m not made of money. I won’t say that the sun was too bright, but wow, was it bright. And the blue sky, so beautiful, so magical, I stretched my wings and took to the air. After two thousand years, flying felt freeing. Soaring through the white clouds, high enough to feel the cold air biting my wing tips. I spun, I looped, I dived, as the pressure changes popped my ears, and my skin under my scales rippled.
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