Dragon of Libya

“There is a book,” whispered the old man, “hidden in the deserts of Libya. You know the one, it sings of riches and timeless beauty you could only imagine. Some say you need only read those passages for all that glory to materialize right in front of you.”

He pauses, looking off, seeming to remember a time long ago, “No one has laid eyes on that book in centuries.  No one dare for fear of being devoured.  You see, it is guarded by a fierce dragon.  And its name is known only to an even more ferocious beast whom it calls the bird master.”

The old man slowly turns in his wheelchair, squinting to see the brave knights around his table.  “Take care my friends, for those that seek the book may never return.”

Elderly men and women sitting around the table briefly look up from their dinners, then continue to eat. 

“We sure will Charlie,” says a man in white clothes who steps up behind him and begins to wheel him from the room, “Now let’s go get you a bath before bed.”