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When and Where They Live and Breathe
The dragon sighting was a sign of what was to come
I’ve been dying to tell someone, literally dying. It is one of the previously unknown and sadly common consequences of any real-world encounter with a dragon. But I wouldn’t trade one mystical moment of it for all the world or, more accurately, for all the worlds.
But let me begin at the beginning.
It was a Wednesday. I needed caffeine to get through my mid-morning-mid-week slump so headed to the crib. That’s what all the creatives at the agency called the break room because, you know, we’re creative.
The agency office was the kind of chic open loft I imagined I’d live in when I first thought of moving to New York. Turned out the entry-level salary, even at a top agency, barely covered the rent for a dingy studio apartment in a not cute part of Brooklyn. I survived, like most newbies, on the free snacks and endless coffee in the crib.
“Hey Sasha,” I said. My only friend at the agency sat in a swinging chair that hung from the ceiling, scrolling through her phone. “You still working on that deodorant account?”
“Room freshener,” Sasha said, not looking up from her screen. “Yeah, it stinks.”
“Ha,” I pushed the double shot espresso button. The machine hissed and huffed.
