7/3/12

Leila crossed back to the door. The man on the other side swung the door open, only to be greeted by a full gown tiger, pouncing with all her teeth shining visibly in the dark night. She pinned him. There was a knife in his hand, but his whole arm was trapped by the weight of the tiger. He squirmed, twisted, and struggled, but he was stuck. As Leila looked down toward the knife in his hand she saw a tattoo wrapping around his arm. She knew that tattoo. She knew this smell. Both belonged to the man she had just killed. The hair was a lighter shade, and he had fuller round lips, but he was undoubtedly part of the other man’s kin.