Tendrils of smoke drifted out of the breadbox. Sadie opened it to find two citrine-colored eyes blinking back at her.

A musical voice called from the kitchen called, “I need the sourdough if you want toast with your bacon.”

“I can’t. A drakeling’s sitting on it.”

“Then move it.”

“You got to come out,” Sadie explained to the scaly creature. Its frills raised, and it muttered in a derisive tone.

“It said no.”

“You speak drakeling?”

“It was implied.”

The creature lashed its tail back and forth thumping the sides of the box.

“Fine. No toast then.”

“Hold on a minute.” Sadie reached for it. The creature scrambled back, but she caught a hind leg and dragged it out. Juggling it while avoiding the razor-sharp talons, Sadie spotted a clutch of cerulean-blue eggs nested on top of the sourdough loaf. The drakeling flipped out of her hands, landed on the counter, and scrabbled back into the breadbox. “It built a nest.”

“So, no toast?”

“Or maybe scrambled eggs with bacon and toast.”

The musical voice from the kitchen called a warning, “Don’t do it.”

Sadie leaned in with a sly smile. “That’s a breadbox, buddy, not an aviary.” She reached in again, and a gout of flame burst forth. She stumbled back, eyebrows singed and skin lightly toasted.

"Everything okay?” The musical voice turned concerned.

“No to the eggs. On another note, it declared, ‘This is where I live.’ rather forcefully.”

“So you do speak drakeling?”

“It’s really more implied.”

Compilation Photo