On the day of Dragon Father’s dark mood, the one I told you about yesterday, the dream Dragon Father summoned to himself was of a castle on another planet that he had to penetrate.

The castle was huge, well-fortified and impenetrable from all sides, which made it impenetrable to Bonny’s Revenge.

And so what Dragon Father had to do for hours was rest the ship in the air, aim its side cannons at one spot in the castle, and fire and fire and fire.

He fired the cannons. Then he fired the cannons again. Then he fired the cannons again. It was the only thing that satiated his anger.

Dragon Little stood by, only four and a half years old, not understanding how dreams and subconscious work.

"Now I want to try,” she said.

“Not now,” he growled and fired the cannons.

She would ask him relentlessly, “Dad, my turn!” “Dad, I wanna!” “Is it my turn?”

But he never gave her a chance. Sometimes he wouldn’t answer, as if he was not hearing her.

“Dad?” “Dad!” “Daaaaad!” “DAD!”

But he only answered the last shout with a shout himself. “JOY! SHUT! UP!”

Dragon Little’s face changed. There was hurt for one instance, then anger and resolve.

Dragon Father was no longer looking at her, continuing to pummel the castle with cannon fire. Until, a few seconds later, he stopped, shouting in pain, as Dragon Little bit his shin as hard as she could.

More happened after that, but I will tell you that story tomorrow.

—Told by The Red Dragon