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Stacy sat on a park bench, eating some ice cream (she had found a twenty
in her pocket) and watching the shelter. The wide, open, clear area showed
many people entering and leaving. Momentarily, there was a break in the
pattern, leaving one cat-morph lady with two small, adorable cat-kids
heading for the front doors. And something else. Stacy had already dropped her ice cream and was half- way across the thankfully empty street before the full situation kicked in. Running up behind the cat-lady, unoticed by her or her kids, was the largest, meanest, over-muscled man Stacy had ever not remembered seeing. His arms were up and his claws were out and Stacy collides with him at exactly twenty-three miles per hour.
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5/6/2008 11:18:25 PM
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