Flight

He heard the whisper. ‘Run’. It seemed to come from some distant place in his memory. His back tingled with anticipation and then with fear. He glared  wildly about him but he saw nothing. His lamp had flicked then gone out. It must have been very cloudy, because it seemed the moon had not heeded the sun’s call to hold his fort. And it as a full moon only the night before. He stood at the stream, and heard the water gently cascade over some pebbles.  A long drink would have been good, but he heard again,’Run’.

Something like a squirrel hurried past him up onto one of the trees. He turned to face the direction from where it came and he saw two fireflies dancing in the  dark. The eyes of a tiger. ‘Run’

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