He crouches, his eyes harpooned to his target.
“A formidable prey.” He growls. His tail curves into a smile.
The prey is motionless. He goes in for the kill.
Mr. cat is chewing my mosquito net. While I applaud his imagination, I am not entirely pleased with the holes.
“Bad Cat!” I hiss.
He jumps away, looking quite pleased. His body swaggers.
“BAD CAT!” I repeat, this time a bit angrier. My words echo against the ceiling fan and shoot off into Khartoum.
“What can I do?” I growl. His tail curves into a smile.