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Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

The following is a piece of writing submitted by Scott on November 26, 2010

A Hungry Lion

*Roar!* When are they going to feed us? It seems like days since my last meal and my stomach is growling more than I.

I pace around the den, leering hungrily at my mates. If they don't feed us soon, I'm going to make a 'purr-fectly' good meal out of one of them. If I wasn't so hungry, I might laugh at my little joke.

Wait, what's this? Yes! They're opening the entrance. Well, well, well. This looks like a tasty morsel. There is this nice, fat man talking, I wouldn't mind making a meal of him. If only he'd slip on the edge.

He's talking about another guy, calls him a Daniel. Mr. Fatman doesn't seem to like this guy. Makes no difference to me, as long as I get a piece. The other lions down here are circling, snapping at each other. The hunger pangs make us crazy. And mean. Whatever, or whoever, gets thrown down here won't last long.

Suddenly, they shove the Daniel over the edge. He hits the floor hard, but he's not very injured. Don't worry, we'll make short work of him! We surround him, can't let him have a way out. Saliva runs from our jaws like a stream, the growling from us lions make even me nervous. Lions can be very vicious, especially to one another, if we think our food is in danger of being eaten by another first.

We start closing in. The Daniel eyes us warily, yet, somehow, no. It can't be. Calm? Four hungry lions eying him, jaws bared, and he is calm? This can't be!

We are so going to... what's that? How'd he get in here? There's a new person in the den. Suddenly, my stomach, it feels full. Yet, I've not eaten anything. I hear a voice speak to me. No one has ever talked to us like this before. There is a peace, a joy, a love that cuts through every fierce instinct within me.

"Peace," says the voice. "Be still." If I could weep, the tears would flow. Not from sorrow, but an unknown comfort within me. I see the Daniel. He kneels before the other man, who reaches down and touches the Daniel gently on the head. He whispers words I cannot hear, but I know that the Daniel is a friend, and loved.

We lay down, content. The Daniel prays and sings. Our growling turns to purrs, as though we, too, are singing. Through the night, the Daniel pets us, rubs our stomachs, and speaks gently to us. How we could have ever thought of eating him, I'll never know.

The night seems to fly by too fast. The entrance is reopened. The fat man is there again, with another man who calls to the Daniel. The Daniel tells the man that he is well. The other man rejoices and has the Daniel lifted out. The Daniel looks back and smiles. Goodbye, my friend.

I hear shouting above. My stomach begins to rumble again and for the first time in hours, I realize that I am starving. I look up, just in time to see Mr. Fatman come plummeting down.

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