Tiger In My Room |top| May 2026

Not a metaphor. Not a dream I’m still shaking off. A real tiger—shoulder-high, amber-eyed, with paws the size of dinner plates resting on my wool rug. Its stripes ripple when it breathes.

It blinks slowly. That’s what cats do when they trust you. tiger in my room

In the morning, it will be gone. No paw prints. No scratch marks. Just the faint smell of dust and sun, and a single orange hair on my pillow. Not a metaphor