On A Balcony
Just a little flash fiction.
The Tiger's heart leapt in fright as he saw the balcony door
wide open. Dashing forwards, panicking he cried out, "Alex!"
The Cheetah cub was
sitting by the railings, legs dangling through the gaps between the iron bars.
He did not look up as the Tiger approached.
He was staring out onto the darkened city, the tower blocks down in the
suburbs looking like blocky hills in the darkness.
"Thank god," the
Tiger whispered, "What do you think you're doing, scaring me like that?! What
are you doing out here."
"Don't be mad," the
Cheetah cub said, his head held low.
The Tiger breathed a
heavy sigh. "No... no, I'm not mad. Just... what are you doing, young one?"
"I was just watching
the cars go by..." he said, quietly.
The Tiger paused,
holding his tongue as he studied the cub. The spotty coat of the Cheetah was
almost invisible in the blackness, as if the darkness of the city beyond was
ready to swallow him up. He stepped forwards slowly, coming to sit next to the
Cheetah, looking upon his face, lit from below, like an angel staring down into
hell.
"I don't like
movies," the cub said without warning.
"W-what?" the Tiger
said, incredulously. The cub had been laughing along with him earlier when they
had been watching the film - some action flick, something with a predictable
plot and slap-stick moments. "Why not?!" he found himself asking, perhaps more
accusatory than he had meant to. He had actually enjoyed it, for once, even
though it had been aimed more towards the young cub's sensibilities.
"They always end."
The Cheetah cub said, sadly, raising his button nose and staring up into the
starry sky.
The Tiger was
momentarily stunned, unsure of what to say, instead just following the cub's
gaze in awe. He hadn't been expecting this. "Alex..." he said quietly.
"It always ends,
every time. I'm sick of endings. I just want them to stop," Alex said,
stubbornly raising his voice.
The Tiger didn't
know what to say. He was unprepared - so woefully unprepared. He stared at the
young, defiant cub. "...it's cold out here," he mumbled, shivering.
"Yes," Alex said,
his voice fading in an instant, like the flame of a candle in the breeze. "It
is." The young Cheetah cub leant over, pulling his feet up as his head came to
rest in the lap of the Tiger. He stared up, seeing right through the concerned
face of the Tiger, up and up with his great black eyes. "A story that always
ends," he whispered.
The Tiger tore his
glance bitterly from the cub. There was too much pain for him to deal with
there. "Not always, dear, sweet Alex," he whispered. "Not always." The city
seemed to shimmer as he spoke again, tears welling in his eyes. "Sometimes an
ending is just the beginning of a new chapter."
The cub was still.
The Tiger blinked to clear his eyes, and looked down to see the cub asleep,
head buried in his furry legs. Carefully he swept an enormous paw beneath the
small bundle of fur, lifting him up as he stood. Cradling the child, he sighed
and stepped back inside, a soft "Chu-nk" behind him as the door to the balcony
closed.
"Too many dark
nights. Far too many."