tigers

I passed from outside to inside, crossing the threshold of a communal space, but, just inside the doorway, my path was blocked by about seven tigers on leashes, held back by a man who was letting them, one by one, out the door. I stood with my back to the wall while each of the tigers approached, a breath away from me, sniffed me and passed, without incident, out the door. I concentrated on calming myself, knowing that should I allow fear to take over, I would be in grave danger. The tigers were powerful enough to break free of the man's strong hold, each of the leashes grasped tight in his fist until they were released outside. With each tiger passing, my fear mounted, though I focused on maintaining calm. By the time the last tiger was to due to be released, the man was distracted, talking to another person behind him, and, noticing this, I felt afraid. This tiger looked slightly different to the rest: less beautiful, his chin pronounced, his manner menacing. The tiger sensed my fear and sniffed at me, his breath hot. The man felt a pull on the leash and immediately snapped to attention, tightening the leash, the black leather strap doubled around his fist. He held the tiger, and neither of us were sure if the tiger would have attacked. Instead, the tiger passed through the door and I was free to venture further inside.