He had climbed atop the black-marble statue of the lion finally. He had desired to do so for quite long but he had never had the guts; always afraid of being caught. Sitting on the wavy lines of the sculpture, representing the fabulous furs of the lion, made him ecstatic. It was an experience he wouldn’t forget ever.
“Lad, ya aren’t supposed to be sitting here,” some one called out to him.
“But I like it here,” he replied, looking for the source of the voice. But there was no one around. Puzzled, he looked everywhere in the vicinity; up, down, right, left, front, back. But he couldn’t find anyone.
“I must have heard it in my head,” he mumbled.
“Are ya silly? Ya are sitting on top of me. It is uncomfortable. Would ya now mind stepping down or I roar out to alert the officials?”
*For VisDare 30.