The Zoo

“Her great grandmother belonged to the king of China,” the tour guide announced happily.
“Doesn’t she look sad in there,” I whispered to my BFF Leslie. She peered in the cage and twirled a piece of her long brunette hair before answering.
“Yep,” she said. “Poor thing.”
I was totally against putting animals in cages. I also was a vegetarian. I was a total activist. My BFF Leslie was the same way. Except she liked to enjoy a hamburger every once in a while. And it wasn’t her that forced me to come to the dreaded zoo. It was worse than that. She was a little barbarian. A twerp. A pain in the-
“I want a snow cone,” my little sister, Katie, whined and pulled on my tee shirt.
“Fine,” I scowled. I pulled out some lose dollars in my pocket and handed it to her. She ran to the nearest snack shack.
“And over here we have the-”
There was a defaning scream and shattering of something. Everyone turned around to look down the path.
“ohmigosh,” the tour guide gasped. “The tiger got out!”

View this story's 1 comments.