Pancakes With a Side of Myth

“You don’t find magic in an IHOP.” Wendy pointed a pancake laden fork at James with an annoyance just short of anger. “This isn’t some fairy tale adventure where second sight gives you an instant ability to find the mystic in the mundane.”

“So I’m just supposed to ignore the dragon that’s stealing sausage links?”

Wendy blinked, “What?”

“There’s a dragon right–” James leaned a bit to the left and then nodded at the table three booths behind Wendy, “–there and it’s stealing that guy’s breakfast.”

Wendy twisted in her seat, saw the chipmunk-sized dragon munching happily on Jimmy Dean sausages and sighed.

“So I’m not crazy,” James settled back into his seat, “good to know.”

“The point is still valid.” Wendy was glaring at the dragon who had frozen as soon as it had realized it was seen, sausage link still mid-chew. “You don’t see things like this in IHOP.”

The dragon grinned sheepishly, then bolted for the door, wings flapping valiantly as it tried to carry away its prize.

“Right.” But James counted his sausage twice, just to make sure.


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