My Lions Tale

I saw him first when I was seven years old. He was truly a beautiful specimen of a lion. His mane was full and multicolored. He paced his small cage and lay down on the back corner as if bored.

At least I thought he was bored. He looked out at me like an angry man. His eyes were deep brown and his teeth sharp and large. I wasn’t afraid, though. The lion was there every year when Mom brought me to the zoo. He never got out of that cage that I witnessed. I named the lion Rufus.

One year, he shared the cage with a girl lion. She was smaller and paced the space much faster than Rufus. I called her Lucy. Rufus flicked his long lion tail like our barn cat flicked her tail.

Today is the fifteenth year of our yearly zoo outing. My girlfriend took the longest time in the reptile room. I tried to get her to hurry because I needed to see Rufus. It was getting close to closing time by the time we made it to the Big Cats room. I walked casually to the last cage. I didn’t want my girlfriend to think I had a soft spot for an old lion.

When I reached the last cage I caught my breath. In the cage was a young lion. I remember Rufus at that age. Like Rufus, this young male paced the cage; back and forth, back and forth. I felt a tear forming and I turned my head away from Emilia, I sneezed a fake sneeze then brushed my eyes with the back of my hand.

The young male lion continued to pace the cage expanse. Outside, zoo workers were working on an outdoor zoo habitat for the big cats. Silently, I named the young lion Raif and I turned to see my girl talking to a small panther cub. I looked back at Raif and hoped he'd enjoy the outside much better.

This image hangs at Grace of Calvary Baptist Church in Erie, Pennsylvania. Artist: Myself

This is my five
minute freewrite using prompt lion's tale hosted by @mariannewest.

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