Golden Foot
The other day I was walking through the cobbled streets of London whistling a merry tune – a spring in my step and a fat, foil-wrapped sandwich in my pocket. So as not to trip my eyes were fixed on the ground, wary of any jutting slab or stealthy curb, when I happened upon this surprise:
‘What a massive, golden foot!’ I thought. ‘What creature could possess such a colossal paw?’
My gaze scanned upwards, met by these fearsome chops:
I’d never met a lion face to face before, so I wasn’t entirely sure what to do. In an excited panic I fumbled in my pocket for my sandwich, which I presented to the lion with shaking hands.
‘I can’t eat tin foil,‘ said the lion.
‘Oh right! Sorry!’ I stammered, and scrappily tore off the wrapper, jolting the sandwich from my hands and onto the floor. I quickly knelt down to pick it up but the lion growled.
‘Just leave it there.’
I stood up and took a few steps back. The lion slunk forward, gave the sandwich a sniff and then scoffed it. Immediately he turned his back on the few crumbs that remained and said:
‘Follow me.’
I did, because he sounded like he meant it. We walked through an alleyway, the lion’s golden paws thudding and scuffing on the concrete and grit. His tail swung fluidly, rear haunches figure of eighting side to side in front of me. Neither of us said anything.
In about five minutes we arrived at an underground car park, empty and echoey. The lion stopped and turned to face me.
‘So, what was that?‘
‘Uh. What was what?’ I frowned.
‘What was that in the sandwich?‘
‘Oh! Hummus, and roast vegetables. And some lettuce and a couple of sliced gherkins.’
‘Do you think lions like hummus?‘
I shrugged, worriedly. ’I don’t know. I’ve never fed a lion before. Did you like it?’
‘Lions eat meat. You must know that.‘
I turned my hands palm up in front of me. ‘Well yeah, but I didn’t have any meat on me!’
The lion swooped slowly in towards my face, until his nose was rested on the tip of mine.
‘You’re full of meat.’
I held my breath, his was rotten.
‘So are you going to eat me?’
‘Yes.‘
I sighed and slouched my shoulders. ’I thought you’d be a lot cooler for a lion made out of gold. More like Aslan, really.’
‘I’m made out of bronze, it’s different.‘
‘Oh. I see.’
‘Bye then.‘
‘Right.’
~
