My imagination of a leopard has nothing to do with this story. However, as I see it, if defeated and lazily walking down the grassy 'streets' of the Masai Mara, a starved leopard, (I don't think Africa prides in Tigers, as it definitely would be a better example) say, walked right into a fattened antelope that has just broken its leg hoping around places with tiny holes, it would not stop to pity it before it starts to dine. I can bet upon a thousand gold coins I don't own that it won't stop! The image remains steady.
A leopard, both angry and hungry with starvation, pouncing on to a delicious kind of its candy, tearing off flesh with a ferocious zeal, scaring the hyenas hovering around by the sheer audacity of its power. A leopard, turned savage by hunger and a continually lessening presence of food ( the herbivores) due to the drying up of the Mara river that waters its prey. Pause. OK , at this point I must mention: Water is life. Cont; An occurrence prompted by climate change. A disaster brought upon God's good earth by the carelessness of men. Cutting down trees carelessly from Kenya's water tower; the glorious Mau complex. Conferences with no results in Copenhagen. Hungry leopards.
Now, it is indisciplined for any one, leave alone a writer to beat about the bush, but I must also mention, now that I have laid down my wandering thoughts about a leopard and must tell the story, there is only one case when the leopard would stop, despite the hunger, and look upon the lame antelope with pitiful consideration. I have secrets. This is one of my own! Nothing in her eyes could betray the monstrosity of what went through her mind, let a lone her life, that very night. There was no smile in her face, but her eyes,
beautiful as redoubled sin, remained steadily fixed to mine in that effortlessly seductive look that rendered parts of me elongated in an uncomfortable ease. She held out the papers, in no more need to say that she was back for practice. And there was that gulp down my throat, deep and crazy voiced swallow, that is something of the sort done as an involuntary sequel to a moment of breathlessness.
As I got lifted by the unexpectedness, I turned to lock the door, only to see a man, tall, dark as coal, and full of a mysterious sense that frightened. He was, definitely, thuggish. Even his smile was cunning. And when fear suddenly gripped me, and my heart raced, it was not because I thought him dangerous to my jaw which stood the risk of loosing a few teeth, or my room which had nothing too big to lose. If only things did not have a sentimental value. I was afraid for a totally different reason. To God my prayer was; dearest lord of the high heavens, let it not be that they are together. Let it be that he escorted her, that he is a relative, or a neighbor, or a
stalker. Let it be, lord I pray.
“Pick me up later!” She said. “I have to practice the play.”
Part 3 coming soon
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