Stomp

 

It started out as one set of footprints running across the roof.

She shrugged. Squirrel.

Then there were two sets.

Then many more.

Inside, the dogs stared at the ceiling, first in curiosity, then alarm. They started to bark. “Shush” she told them, “It’s just squirrels.”

But she didn’t sound convincing, even to herself.

Going outside and standing where she could see the roof, she said sternly, “I don’t care if you have friends over, but what did I say about stomping all over the roof?”

The dragon whispered, “You’re not my real mom” and refused to make eye contact.