Her TurfOriginal Fiction by Morgen Marshall She walked the streets at night. A part of the dark landscape that made the city. Her feet making no sound on the sidewalk. Cars would pass on the street, not acknowledging her presence. This was her turf.
Ahead, she heard the sounds of a scuffle. She flattened her ears to her head. She pulled in her courage, she would need it. This was her turf. As she rounded the corner, she saw him. His golden eyes glowed in the passing headlights of a car. He was scruffy; young and inexperienced. She could smell his fear. A quick confrontation would be all she needed. A quick swipe and he'd be gone. This was her turf. She let a low growl escape her throat. He hunched and backed up a step. This was her turf. He slowly approached her. Swipe! A yowl escaped her. This was her turf. They continued to struggle and spit. A swipe here, a bat there. Yowling and screaming, the confrontation continued. She had to stand her ground. This was her turf. He showed his soft underside. She had him now. She pounced. He jumped. He ran. This was her turf. Meeting this stranger was a good thing. She was glad he moved on. She felt strong and supple. She needed a lot of food now. This was her turf.  Contact Form CatLover Magazine Subscription Form Copying isn't nice - It's criminal!  |
