Saturday, 20 June 2009
05:00:17 PM (GMT)
You gaze mockingly at me from across the dim lit room, where you crouch in a corner,
"Here little mousey," you crawl across the the dusty stone floor towards me, "kitty
wants to play."
You stop half way across the floor to sneer at me. Your eyes lazily pass over me,
inspecting every inch of my scratched, bruised body, inspecting your handiwork,
inspecting your pray.
I struggle to get free, to get out from under your gaze that burns my skin like a red
"Ah, ah, bad mousey. No escaping," You shake a finger at me, "If you get away I'll
have to find a new toy. You know what they say, 'All work and no play makes Jack a
dull boy,'" You wink.
"Who are you?" I whimper.
"Tsk, tsk. Silly mouse you know who I am," you laugh.
Though I hate to admit it, I do. I know that face, now contorted and glowing with
malice, violence and hate.
You lean back, and, predator you are, pounce at me.