Pet World was eerily quiet that morning.
The opened hamster cage doors hung limp and broken, the aquarium fished of all within, bird seed scattered and spotted feathers dotted upon the floor. All quiet, but for the contented purr of Pancho the puma, recent, felonious escapee of the nearby zoo.
Alex Sinclair was born in the winter of 1973 in Nottingham, England, and, on the cusp of his 40th birthday, is still trapped there. He longs for a looser, more liberal society where his own shaky morality and absurd beliefs could find succor and praise. Until that day, he bides his time, waiting to pounce like a graying and jaded ocelot. To amuse him and occupy all available time for the next 40 years of his life, he has just become father to twins, who, though but 3 months old, are acutely aware that daddy may not be quite right in the head. This small matter is overlooked as he can expertly and lovingly feed, burp, and nappy change each baby in just 15 minutes, whilst also attend to cooking duties downstairs with good humour. He lives with his long-suffering partner Shona, and cats David and Mogwai.
Rancid breath washed over him, spilling out from behind a mouthful of long, sharp, yellow teeth.
How had he ended up here, with his head halfway down a lion’s throat? “Exciting Opportunity,” they’d called it. “The Adventure of a Lifetime.”
He sighed wretchedly and gathered a long string of floss.
This story was based on the prompt “yellow teeth” at TypeTrigger.
Bethany stormed into the panda run.
Sammy and Florence, the local inmates, sauntered over and began looking for treats.
“He won’t listen!” said Bethany, stifling a sob.
The pandas’ faces drooped.
“Can’t he see how lonely you are? All we want is a couple of play dates with the orangutans.”
I sit and I weep.
I used to be free. The faces gawp at me during the day, while at night I’m observed by darkness. I grow tired of my life, but they keep me alive to watch my suffering.
Outside, the signpost reads “Tiger: The Last of its Kind.”
Adam Baker entered this story into a 50-word story competition for school. He doesn’t know the result yet, but he got it posted here, if nothing else!
“Papa Panda! Papa Panda!”
There it went again.
It was incessant, unceasing, never-ending. (Synonyms were one of Papa Panda’s few pleasures.)
Papa Panda rolled over, half-opened one eye, and gestured impatiently at the annoying, agitating throng.
The tourists roared with glee.
Papa Panda found zoo life emotionally taxing.
Mandy gasped in delight. “It’s like I always dreamed! But how did you…?”
Travis grinned. “Let’s just say I owe the zookeeper a very complicated favor! Care for a ride?”
Mandy blushed. “I’d love one.”
By sunset’s glow, he drove the duck-drawn carriage down the meandering path to her heart.
This story was based on a prompt from @awesomejeka.
Fleeing my prison, driven by the hunger, I found my victim. I struck. His blood flowed. The hunger was satiated, but then: panic.
The body was stuck on my tusks, and my flippers were too short to remove it.
The zookeepers apprehended me, ending the reign of Chumley, Vampire Walrus.
Josh Anderson is an amateur filmmaker and writer from Lubbock, Texas.