Professor Ornery Dragon

Serena bit into the cinder orange and absently wiped the juice away as it ran down her chin. Chewing, she held the fruit up and examined it closely. While named “orange” it in no way resembled the oranges based on the Old Earth fruit that she was used to. For one thing, you could eat the skin and then it wasn’t even colored orange. In fact, it more resembled a pear that tasted like a cross between a pear and a mango. Different, but very good, she decided.

“What the hell is that racket?” Darian groused from his prone position on the couch.

“The phrogs,” Andrea replied, pronouncing it “puh-frogs.”

“What? You mean frogs?” Darian asked.

“No, I mean phrogs. The noisy ones around the pond right now,” Andrea said looking up from her crocheting with a small smile.

Art can be inspiring, thought-provoking, uplifting, protesting, and sometimes… downright strange. I stared at the painting hanging in the entryway of the mansion. I’d come here to do an inventory of the home’s contents for the daughter of the late owner. The estate had belonged to her mother, with whom she had a contentious relationship, and the daughter wanted to sell as much as she could, clear out the house, and then sell the house. My company, that would be me, had been hired to coordinate the estate sale.

Jake glanced around the room. The panel was scheduled to start in just a couple of minutes. Those researchers presenting papers sat at a table in the front of the room, with the moderator off to one side. The rows of seats were slowly, but steadily filling up. This was guaranteed to be a popular panel – perhaps the most popular at the conference.