So the world moved. And I remained.
I caught myself a salmon and cooked it until it was less raw. I ate it slowly, by the stream of guilty pleasures. The dragons hovered over me, as I taunted them with my fish. Dragons do not know how to fish.
I took a walk down memory lane. The lane was lit with neon lights. One of them advertised beer - the fruity Mexican kind. I bought myself one and drank it slowly. I drank it till I was full. And I taunted the dragons again. Dragons do not drink beer.
I reached my house and skipped to the door. Here I waited, as I often did. My wife was with another man in there, and they were in the throes of passion. I didn't dare disturb them. I sat down with my empty bottle of beer, curved in its need to sell to male customers. Smooth and transparent, like the lingerie my wife never wore.
It had begun to rain lightly. I watched the dragons circle over my head. I shook my fist at them, and they snorted in response. I closed my eyes, and smelt my soul burn with jealousy. The fire within me got warmer and warmer, I could feel it in my breath. Up above, the dragons taunted me. Humans cannot blow fire.