Street Animals

Street Animals

“Whatever you do, don’t go that way.”

“And why not?”

“It’s not safe.” John always is a coward.

“Define ‘not safe’.”

“Lions, tigers, bears. Great bands of them, Paul.”

“We live in a city. There are no lions or tigers or bears roaming the streets.”

“Oh, but there are. Just don’t go that way. Trust me.” John ran to his apartment, slammed and locked the door.

Enter Barry, León, and the one they call El Tigre. I remember these three. They hang out around the apartments at times. They do roam the streets, homeless but harmless.

First Barry came my way, then El Tigre and León followed. Lions and tigers and bears indeed. They are harmless as flies.

“Hey Barry. What’s up?”

“Yeah, there. Hi there. We’re just roaming. Got any grub?”

León and El Tigre never spoke, always hung back, always together, always with Barry.

I found the three some food, some drinks. We sat out on the steps where they ate like animals, quickly and noisily. Then our quartet sat quietly for a time. Just four life forms content to coexist, not bothering anyone.

“Gotta go. We need to move,” stated Barry suddenly.

Barry, León and El Tigre blended into the city night. Like three street animals roaming the black jungle.


W/C 213