Your Next-Door Neighbor Is A Dragon - Plot & Excerpts
Inside of a dog, it is too dark to read. —Groucho Marx I was standing at the baggage claim in Pittsburgh International Airport wondering why my pair of small black Samsonites had yet to appear on the conveyor. Most of the other passengers on my flight had already picked up their bags and departed. No doubt headed for their hotels to prepare for the coming days of Anthrocon 2008. It was down to me and a guy bulging out of a Simpsons T-shirt one size too small. He was also wearing red suspenders, cargo shorts, socks with sandals, and a pair of prescription glasses with flip-up sun shades. This was a man who desperately wanted to never have sex. Or so the uninformed might have thought. The baseball cap with pointed ears glued on and the fluffy ringed tail emerging from the back of his shorts were two dead give-aways that he very much wanted to have sex. Just maybe not in the way you or I think of sex. “These things take forever,” he complained. A battered red clamshell suitcase emerged and he began to prance up and down with excitement.
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