Where the Wild Things Are
It’s the most terrifying sideways glance in London.
You want a frown, you want a wrinkled lip, you want a sneer of cold command – here you go.
Where you going? So fast. Trying not to catch someone’s eye? Too late. Here’s looking at you. She’s taking stock, seeing what’s for dinner.
One pounce, one bound and you’re toast.
Red of eye. The nastiest tongue in London. Maybe she’s not hungry. Maybe that tongue is blood-soaked.
Now that’s assuming it’s a lioness. Maybe it isn’t. Maybe it’s something scaly. Something even nastier.
But let’s “hope” it’s a lioness. The Strand is, after all, Lion Country. Big time.
Stay tuned. Keep calm (if you can) and keep cocked.