Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum


He sits there, huddled, in the alcove of an abandoned doorway near the railway station. A threadbare suitcase and a brace of soiled quilts, his only possessions.

There is an unmistakable stench of cheap liquor and urine when one walks past him. When people turn up their noses as they pass him, it is difficult to tell if they do it because of the revolting smell or because they are disgusted by his hoarse “Spare some change please?“, knowing where their change would inevitably end up!
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The Protector

African Lion
Atop the highest rock stood the alpha male, un-moving, regal, as if hewn out of the very rock he stood upon. As the giant, pale yellow moon rose on the horizon, the solitary figure on the rock was silhouetted against it, lending an eerie, almost surreal touch to the scene. His eyes, red as glowing embers, set deep under a huge forehead, surveyed the surroundings. His territory! Over the years, he had expanded it, bit by bit… claiming victories over others who had dared challenge his superiority. His enormous body bore the marks of his triumphs.

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