E is for Edible


Clockwork Nessie, Part 4

I thought the beast a medieval dragon, one that bore evidence of man’s intervention by wearing a suit of armor.

The creature paused and turned in my direction. From what would have been its nose, two exhales of warm mist told me I’d been sniffed out of my hiding spot. My heart raced as it curled its neck down and extended what I hoped was a curious face toward me.

I didn’t often employ idle flattery, but erring on the side of caution seemed prudent. “H-hello, dear dragon. Have I interrupted your sunbath? I’m sorry to intrude but you’re a b-beautiful beastie, aren’t you?” The quiver in my voice echoed off the walls in a magnified mockery.

The creature cocked its head to the side and blew more warm vapor out its nostrils as it moved to an outcropping of bituminous rock. Massive jaws opened and took a bite.

“Holy extinction! What kind of creature eats rock?” I moved closer to the water’s edge.

The creature continued to mine rock from the wall; massive chunks disappeared inside its fearsome maw. After it consumed perhaps a cubic yard, it blasted what I assumed to be steam from its nostrils.

(To Be Continued) a2z-2013-badge-001_5bmed5d

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