By Bryson Mooso
My captors wait just outside.
I knock idle fingers along the wooden bars of my cage. A camera blinks red, watching my every move.
A yawn catches me off guard, balance teeters; I topple. Above, zoo animals spin lazily, just out of reach, brothers in captivity.
My eyes close momentarily, snap back open.
They think they can hold me, think I will be the first to break. They know nothing, so new to this game. I am their first, maybe their last. My lungs are charged, ready to howl.
Then—relief.
Sigh.
The warden will need to change my nappy soon.
The unexpected last sentence is a surprise ending. Well done.
This was fun. After reading the last line, I had to re-read it with a new perspective. Nicely done!