In which advice is not appreciated

The trip home was depressing, to say the least. The dragon spent the entire trip in tears, moaning and groaning about how ugly he was. He fluctuated between spouting angry words at anything he could, and complaining how life was so unfair and nothing worked for him.

The minotaur, although wearied by the constant noise, could manage to drown out the sound of the dragon’s whines and temper tantrums. He just pictured himself walking through that lovely bee hive meadow they had passed earlier, and pretended that the dragon’s voice was just the sound of busy bees.

He could not, however, no matter what he tried, drown out the dragon’s pitiful screeches every time he grabbed one of those golden locks and yanked it out. That action, which seemed to happen every time the dragon was about to switch from anger to self-pitifaction, pulled on his heartstrings. He knew that feeling, like the whole world was crashing down on him, and the only way to lighten its burden was to rip out hair. He had had the same response to the last advice he had heard from that haystack, and he decided to tell the dragon so.

The next time the dragon flung himself to the ground brokenhearted, the minotaur crouched by the dragon and petted his head as affectionately and soothingly as he could. “Don’t be bothered by that haystack. It just loves to shatter dreams and ruin lives.”

In which advice is not appreciated

One Comment...

  1. Lisa

    What a horrible haystack… I wonder if they’re all like that.

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