The loud sound of

shots fired, echoing

in the air,

leaving behind thick, lingering

smoke that fogged the

little girl's view.

She rubbed her eyes,

thinking that it

was the fault

of her vision for muting the colours

of the dragons, vibrant only moments ago,

swaying its short,

feathered tail. Booming drums reverberated rhythmically

from all directions, confining the dragon

within the sound.

As the dragon swayed

back and forth

it looked as though it

was convulsing,

occasionally soaring

into the air with its front legs kicking frantically.

It was far too loud for the little girl,

but the dragons kept

her there, particularly

the one that looked like it was in pain.

The longer she watched,

the slower the dragon

moved. The dragon

rapidly blinked its eyes

as though this could

replace the movements

that its legs no longer

made. No one seemed

to notice as the other

dragons closed in, dancing around

the one that was injured,

obscuring its red and gold body.

When the drums stopped,

the crackling

of the firecrackers ceased, the dragons dispersed,

but the little girl followed.

She caught the red

and gold tail disappearing

around the corner

of a Chinese supermarket

by the edge

of Chinatown, into the back alley

where a dumpster sat

heaping with rotten goods.

Around the corner, the little girl

watched the dragon

shed its red and gold

armour, leaving only its

shimmering legs attached

to the upper bodies

of men and women.

The man that held

the head of the dragon with its eyes closed

sat down on a wooden

crate. A heavy sigh

escaped his lips as

he kicked off

his bloodied red shoes. It was difficult to tell 

if there was

any blood at all.

The little girl left

her spot behind the wall

and back out into

the streets, knowing that the dragons will dance again.