Red Sky at Night

This is a short-short story from Welsh Cakes: Book of Short Stories based on a border town conflict between the Welsh on one side of the border and the English on the other. Stories of strange goings-on in the area had reached the newspaper The Daily Rumor and Geoff Gordon, a newspaper correspondent, had been sent to cover the story. He is the narrator of this story, which begins:

“Middletown, England: On March 1st 2000, St. David’s Day I arrived at this border town in response to a tip, sent to our Fleet Street Office, about strange goings on in this area. The border I’m speaking about is the one between England and Wales. St. David is the patron saint of Wales and much celebrated across the border from here and mostly ignored in this English town.
"The strange goings on, aforementioned, have been taking place since January 1st 2000, the first day of the new millennium and have escalated to mammoth proportions over the last few weeks. They were building up, according to our source, to a one night stand of terror to be laid upon the English on St. David’s Day.
"This was no man’s doing, we were told, but that of the Welsh Dragon, protector of Wales. Long ago thought to be slain by some power hungry duke or prince, he appears to have risen up to come to the aid of the Celtic people. Whether this is the slain dragon risen like a phoenix from the ashes, or her offspring recently come to maturity, our source did not know. But that the border town of Middletown was in the grip of fear he could attest and the town’s people wanted some witness of the promised wrath to come upon the community this first night of March 2000. ...
"I stayed inside till morning with the rest of the men. They held their weapons at the ready while they slept in discomfort on the upright wooden chairs. At dawn, before coffee, before breakfast, before putting our artillery away, we went outside into the still acrid air. Devastation had come in the night. A field of winter wheat was burnt to ashes; the trees stood blackened and charred, a couple of thatched cottages were gutted.
"I took photographs of the destruction because the familiar action kept me from moaning in despair. I saw one tree with a human face like a church gargoyle burned into its trunk. The locals said it looked like Murdoch the town mayor and he’s certainly nowhere to be found. He’d been giving the Welsh across the border a hard time about coming into Middletown and shooting the rabbits and he’d pooh-poohed all this talk of the Welsh Dragon returning to the land. Late at night, the Dragon Wheel’s patrons told me, if he got drunk enough and there was a Welshman in the pub he would sing the old ditty, “Taffy was a Welshman, 'Taffy was a thief, Taffy came to our house and stole a leg of beef.' ...”

The moral of this story, I suppose, is that one should never put down another country even if it is only in fun. The spirits, gods, or dragons of that country might well take umbrage and take revenge.