I loved walking in front of him on my way from school, mainly because he’d stop whatever it was he was doing to stare at me. He was big, and quite muscular too. Most of the time he wasn’t doing anything really, just relaxing under the shade of the Neem tree outside his house, watching passersby for entertainment. I was his favourite passerby, I believed. Every time I walked in front of him he’d raise his head from his slumber and just stare. Stare. With hunger in his eyes. And I’d pretend I didn’t get a thrill from it. I’d just sashay my little pubescent body slowly away, with waist movements designed to entice his hunger. To increase it. I was his little temptress. It was a game for us. He never spoke to me, nor I to him. He’d just stare, hungrily. And I’d happily fuel his burning desire for my flesh, safely from a distance of course. There was no telling what his hunger would make him do.

Everyday from school I’d walk on his street alone because my friends would never accompany me that far. And when we finally met in front of our houses, for we all lived on the same street, they’d tell me how much of a show-off I was.

“You be there taunting him, one day when that dog decides to chase you, you’ll see!”