Move to the suburbs, they said. It’ll be safer, they said. Until you’re running through the maze of carbon-copy streets, heart-pounding, breathing frantic. The pup in your arms is getting so heavy, but you’re terrified to put it down. All you wanted was to take the pup for a quick potty break before bed. The quiet, tree-lined street was a haven, a refuge from city life.
Until you heard scrabbling noises in the night. Saw two yellowish eyes gleaming in the dark, as large as soda cans. Accompanied by a low hiss of warning, you took a hasty step back. Before you could move further, a giant reptilian figure was moving from the drainage ditch at the side of the road, crawling towards you faster than seemed possible.
