Flash Fiction – Menagerie

“Angela! Do we have any antidote?” Braxton poked his head out the door, interrupting her afternoon of peace. 

Sighing, Angela shook her head in disgust. “Did they sign the release form?”

“…yes?”

Angela watched Jaxcart dive into the water and catch his dinner. The turquoise dragon–the star attraction. “Did you tell him to not pet the griffin?”

“It…um…wasn’t Silver; Tellix bit him.”

With a sigh, she stood. “Top shelf of the supply cabinet, back corner, behind the feed. Give him one serving and kick him out. What was he doing in with Tellix?”

Braxton stood at the door, waiting. “He wanted to see the baby dragons. He heard they were like cats. They like the heat in that room.”

“They are like cats, but only with me. They’re my pets and not part of the display.”

Heading to the large oak door, Angela yanked it open to find a gaggle of miniature dragons waiting for her. Squatting, she gave each a bit of attention, petting them, and bracing her legs as two climbed up to her shoulders. 

She headed down the hall, her jewel colored babies following her as she made the rounds of her Mythical Magical Monster Menagerie. 

The griffins slept in the back of their room, glancing at her from beneath drooping eyelids as she checked on them. The large window on the far side of the cavernous area overlooked the ocean and a waterfall. 

Heading down a set of stairs, she opened a door to reveal a thick glass screen, bolstered with magic, that blocked the water. Mermaids waved, “hello,” from the other side, surrounded by baby kraken they were minding. 

Their parents must be out hunting. No reason to check the next basement room. 

Climbing up to the upper floor, she opened the door to a dynamic air show of glowing phoenixes. Glaring, she snapped, “Tellix, no more attacking the customers. If they don’t come back, I can’t afford your treats.”

In the corner, an older bird hung his head. Half her brood of miniature dragons ran in to stay in the phoenix room, attracted to the heat and lights they displayed. 

Turning on her heel, she headed to the final, empty room. Jaxcart, the large dragon who lived there, still flew above the ocean outside. 

Finally moving to the reception room, Angela checked on the man who’d been bitten. He would survive. With a smile she sent him on his way, closing the menagerie up for the day. 

It was time to feed her babies…her miniature dragons. She was not the crazy dragon lady; she only had eight. She’d read in Caring for Critters she needed at least ten to be considered crazy.