A Bite to Eat

‘Mum, I’ve made friends with a tiger in the garden. Can I give him a biscuit?’
Mum chuckled. Peter’s tall stories never failed to surprise her.
‘What would he like?’
‘Bourbon, please.’
Peter hovered by the door. ‘He said he’d take me for a ride, but I must ask you first. Is that okay?’
‘As long as you’re back for tea.’
Mum continued peeling potatoes.
She didn’t notice Peter flying past the window, over the fence, astride a tiger normally seen in storybooks, or nightmares.
A tiger with wide salivating jaws, razor-sharp teeth, an evil glint in its eye.