The following was inspired by this prompt: Churn out a story at least 994 words. Follow a single-father of two. Include a book of stickers, a checkbook, a baby carrier, a teddy bear, and a coffee shop. Actual word count: 1,034.
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At the Latte Dragon
Alec was tired. Tired of taking care of his children. Tired of teaching physics to community college kids who defied the laws of physics every day. Tired of the whole damn town. So when he spied the Latte Dragon on the corner of Main and Cumberland on his way to the grocery store, he made a bee-line to it, hoping that some coffee would take him through the rest of the day.
Earlier, he had taken the kids out of day care after a trying class where the students had insisted on floating in the air while they listened to him lecture about the laws of gravity. His one year old had raised a ruckus from being disturbed from her sleep. His toddler had thrown a small tantrum about getting a book of stickers just like his friend. At least now, he thought ruefully, Valerie was peacefully napping in the baby carrier he had slung over on his back. Conner was docilely tagging along with a teddy bear in one hand and a lollipop, that he had purchased from the local candy shop, in the other.
The chime at the door tinkled as the trio entered the coffee shop. The place had a warm dark feel--the walls bare brown-black bricks, the tables and chairs deeply stained pine, and the stool seats a worn faux leather the color of charred paper. The patrons were all students chatting and working on wireless laptops or the arty types arguing about Spinoza and Hume. The one patron in front of him was a gray-haired lady who whipped out a checkbook to pay for one measly muffin.
When it was his turn, he headed to the counter with the order on the tip of his tongue.
"Double espresso and hold the sugar, right?" inquired the woman at the cash register. Instead of the expected apron, she wore a long kimono-style dress of olive silk embroidered with golden thread. Her dark hair was long and loose; her eyes were sharp and black, penetrating.
"Are you a mind reader?" Alec replied. Then he sighed. "Don't answer that. You probably are."
The woman smiled, revealing what looked like too many teeth. "You catch on quick."
"One would have to," he muttered under his breath.
She raised an eyebrow at the remark, but then turned to the barista, a masculine hulk at the espresso machine, and repeated the order to him. Alec was somewhat disturbed to notice smoke faintly drifting up from the man's nostrils as he pulled at the machine.
"That would be two-fifty," she declared. As he dug out his wallet for the money, she added, "You know, not everyone in this town realizes that things around here aren't like other places."
And I wouldn't have if my ex-wife hadn't run off with a bad boy motorcyclist who turned hairy every full moon. Werewolf beats physics nerd every time. But out loud, he replied, "I guess so. I suppose some people aren't very observant."
"It's that or they just don't want to believe." She handed him change from a ten with a sympathetic glance. "How old are the kids?"
"I'm three," Conner piped up when he pulled the lollipop out of his mouth. "And Val is one. How old are you?"
Alec frowned. "Conner, it's not very polite to ask a lady her age."
"That's all right," she said, amused. "I don't mind giving it out. I'm three hundred and sixty-five."
Conner was impressed. "That's old."
"Oh, that may seem old to you, but I'm pretty young for my kind. Now my grandpa's old. He's breaking two thousand and fifty in a couple months."
"Did your grandpa see the pyramids being built?" the little boy asked.
"That was before his time, unfortunately."
Alec could hardly wrap his mind around that number. If the professors at the biology department got a load of this, they'd blow a gasket. "Exactly how long does your kind live?"
"Three thousand is about average," she replied. "The oldest dragon I know is my brother-in-law's great-aunt. Now she was around when the Ancient Egyptians were chiseling out their hieroglyphs."
"Do you think I could ask her about the pyramids?" Conner said excitedly.
"Sorry, kid. Last I heard, Great Aunt Simi was out in Borneo looking for treasure to augment her hoard."
"What's a hoard?" the toddler asked.
The cashier got a waxy look in her eyes. "A hoard is a large collection of very shiny things. Great Aunt Simi is old school--she likes gold and nothing but. I collect doorknobs."
"Oh." He stuck the lollipop back into his mouth.
Alec wrinkled his brow. "Doorknobs?"
"Our basement is full of them," the barista said in a deep gravelly voice over the whirring of the espresso machine. "She's obsessed with them. If it's brass or crystal, it's an automatic buy. And she wastes her time polishing those things instead of doing housework."
"Ha! Look who's talking. The attic is stuffed to the gills with all of your darn books!"
The whirring of the espresso machine stopped. The barista turned to hand Alec a white porcelain cup filled to the brim with foaming liquid. "Don't listen to her. She's just jealous that I have more books than she has doorknobs. I have a friend whose great-great-great grandfather is still around. He saw the Mesopotamians start building their cities."
"Good God," Alec replied.
The barista chuckled, showing sharp teeth. "That old dragon is an anomaly. My friend thinks he took an eternal life potion but never admitted it to anybody. Which is pretty likely since he is an avid collector of recipes."
"Of course, the downside for living longer is that we don't reproduce very much," she said. "Which is fine and dandy as long as some poor misguided hero doesn't come at us with a lance."
Alec just nodded. "Uh, okay. Well, thanks for the espresso."
"No problem." She held out a hand. Her nails looked like claws. Three chocolate chip cookies wrapped in cellophane appeared in her palm. "These will probably be better than all that caffeine. One for each of you, compliments from the house."
As Alec took the cookies, he wondered how they would be better.
