© InEvent, Inc. 2024
I should be terrified. Maybe I am, but distantly, like hearing thunder from inside a safe house. The tiger yawns. Its tongue curls, pink and rough as a cat’s, and I smell dry grass and warm fur. No blood. No threat.
Outside, the world keeps honking and buzzing. Deadlines, alarms, things I swore I’d fix. But inside, the tiger stretches, and for the first time in months, I close my eyes without planning my escape. tiger in my room
It blinks slowly. That’s what cats do when they trust you. I should be terrified