I stood no chance against this beast, this hulking mass of muscle lumbering towards me, rippling with animal ferocity. His movements were slow and steady; every paw was placed carefully, every low guttural growl considered. As if I were a threat to him.

Content with the distance between us the tiger padded to a stop. My beard itched but I did not dare raise a hand to scratch it. I was as defenceless as a noodle against a Chinaman.

I should have run when I had the chance. When I saw its orange body through the bamboo.

I was toast.


~ by Joseph Blame on July 17, 2010.

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