Wish I was a gargoyle. They become national treasures or adorn the rich folks homes.
Carved, worn dragons, no matter how long they clung to cathedral roofs, will be tossed during renovation. I know, that’s how Uncle Firestorm met his end.
Dragons go in and out of favour. Authors tell our stories, ( Anne McCaffrey as an example) movies try to tell our stories (How to Train Your Dragon 1 & 2 among others), we appear on children’s television, such as Jane and the Dragon.
But no one invites us to be part of their re-do or brand new. No. Not dragons. Gargoyles making silly faces, lost souls bound for Hell, The pain and torture when Hell has been achieved.
I just don’t understand. We’re written about, star in movies, but us old ones can’t get any respect. No assisted living on someone’s roof or in flower beds. We are toast. Which, of course, is ironic as that’s what we’re good at – making toast.
Wish I was a gargoyle.