Short Story – A vegetarian lion

Once upon a time, there lived a mane lion. The King of the Kalahari gnashed his pointy teeth and ambushed prey because he resembled the yellow grass.

At sunrise, the lion poached more springboks, while the sun dazzled the impalas licking dew from the leaves. Last year, the grazers cursed the sun for acting like the lion’s friend, as it painted the grass red, making it difficult for the prey to spot the lion.

This was the only Kalahari Congress where the lion, as the king, did not chair.

Years later, the king had lost his textbook-hunting skill, and the boiling sand had bruised his stalking paws. His sharp claws were bleeding, and his teeth were as blunt as a kitchen knife.