Where are the Dragons?

He sat back and placed the book on the arm of his chair. He sighed a discontented sigh as he stared into space. He had been born into the wrong time and he knew it.

He loved reading about the past. He loved reading about men and women who had conquered over massive setbacks and gargantuan odds to defeat the giant miseries of their times. The people who had cured diseases, created great machines, advanced the cause of human kind. The people who had slain their own personal dragons and in doing so made such major gains for human kind.

He had been born too late to be one of these greats and he viewed it with enormous sadness that his genius could never be tested against those monumental mammoths of misery that had stalked the earth in days gone by.

Slowly he sank back into his chair and turned on the television. The news was, once again, filled with stories of floods and famine, wars and disease, climate change and pollution. He turned it off and sank back into his reverie of the past. “Where,’ he thought to himself, “Where are the dragons of today. It was so much easier in the past when you could see them ”