She feeds the tiny dragons at the park everyday. When she sits on the bench, they manifest around her one by one, as she tosses each piece of raw meat onto the grass.

Lately there have been photographers who stand at a distance and photograph the scene. She has been written about, and she hopes they will soon forget her. A few of the dragons once flew over to the photographers and waited with open mouths for her instructions, but she declined.

She hasn’t told anybody, but when she comes to the park, there are also monsters in the pond. Which is why the pond fish seem to disappear so often.

She has more at home. An obedient little griffin, a firebird for which an empty, asbestos-covered cage stands ready, a small herd of Airavats for whom she clears up the kitchen table, and a Minotaur who hides under it.

She is training herself in photography. And while she’s not very good yet, her friends make for beautiful subjects. Someday, she thinks, I’ll be famous.