The Dragon Dance

We heard the drums from across the field and there was nothing we could do but follow them. We joined the crowd huddled around a temporary stage. In the grass between stage and crowd the monsters faced off - dragons from the depths of man's imagination. Perhaps the drums called them. Perhaps they called the drums. Either way, the end result was that we stood, watching them, awaiting our doom.


They pitched and jumped and we, poor humans, were hypnotized. When they turned on us, it was too late to run - too late to do anything but press back against the crowd, praying they would pass us by.



For many, there was no escape. The dragons came and stretched their mighty jaws to close on human heads. Children cried to see their parents' heads devoured. Parents snatched their babies away from the beasts.


In moments I found myself in the path of one of the beasts. The crowd pressed close, still trapped in the rhythm of the drums.

In desperation, I raised my camera. If I was to be eaten, at least I could document my last moments.

To my surprise, the beast passed me by. My head was not eaten. My hair went unmussed. My sunglasses stayed on my head.

The dragon dancers threaded their way back to the stage. They lurched to their full height and waggled their eyebrows at the crowd. The dance was over. We were free.