Monday, November 1, 2010

Tiger imagination

Dinner lies hidden in the bramble, quietly napping in solitude spotted only by Ace Hunter of the Jungle also known as mighty Prince Balaji the Bengal Tiger. I creep up, stealth and clandestine as though my very feet are made of feather, behind my prey until a rustle in the brush on my left causes the deer to jump very nearly ending my ambush. I pause, statuesque, a crackerjack stalker, until the unsuspecting mark reclines back and closes his eyes. I step forward allowing my foot to break a limb causing a panicked response but I know just which way he will go. He doesn't stand a chance...          

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