As the tiger gripped him with its paws, its head hung over his shoulder, drenching his shirt with saliva. “I knew I was going to die. So I embraced the tiger. He was soft. The tiger was soft. Like a sponge.” Somehow, this surrender freed him—the tiger released him and turned on one of his companions.
read more | digg story
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment