Daniel Williams

Dylan Morgan Saves The Tigers- Short Story

In Short Stories, Writing on 17/08/2011 at 12:19
Dylan Morgan Saves The Tigers

Innsborough high street was not particularly busy on a Tuesday morning. There were a few shoppers and a handful of charity workers stopping them. Dylan walked through the high street with a clutch of library books. He had successfully avoided eye contact with two charity workers. There was no way of breaking out of an eye contact contract with a charity worker.

A third charity worker ahead of him was busy was talking with somebody. Dylan considered himself safe. As he neared the third charity worker, the man they had been talking to walked away. Dylan diverted his gaze. A moment later and the charity worker creeped his field of vision. Then- eye contact.

Dylan’s pace slowed. The charity worker wore the standard issue green kagool, with a peace badge attached. Dylan noticed his charity worker was a she. And she was blonde. A small, pale blonde, a year or two older than himself and she was smiling at him.

She said, ‘Hi.’

Dylan stopped.

‘I was wondering if you spare five minutes of your time today?’

‘Of course,’ Dylan said. He tried to hold his library books in such a way that she would be able to see he had a book by Chekhov. As she began to explain what her charity was about Dylan raised the book a little higher.

She told Dylan she was here to help save the tigers. Tigers were endangered, she said. They were hunted, killed and murdered without purpose, she said.

‘Beautiful creatures’, Dylan said. ‘Tigers.’

‘Yeah,’ she said and continued her speech.

She asked, ‘What is it you do? Are you a student?’

‘Yeah,’ Dylan said.

He cleared his throat.

‘But I’m a… writer, really.’

‘A writer? Wow.’

‘Oh, yes,’ he said.

‘Have you been published?’

‘Oh, just a few things,’ he said, ‘just a few things, poems, a short story.’

‘That’s cool. It must be a hard life.’

‘Well it can be tough, yes,’ Dylan said. ‘But it’s not as… you know, important as what you’re doing. You know, being here and… people been miserbale… and, you know, rain or shine…’

‘Words can be just as important as actions, sometimes even more so.’ She smiled at him. ‘But what I’d really like today is for you to set up a donation with our charity.’

‘I, I am a student,’ Dylan said, ‘and I… with money-’

‘I know,’ she said, ‘I’m a student too, but for a cause like this… You’d be doing me a really big favour. I’d really like to get you signed up today.’

Dylan’s foot began to tap a little. He looked down. He said, ‘I could always give you… my number…’

She said, ‘Great.’

Dylan looked up.


‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘If you could just jot it down on the form. And your name, address and bank details so we can get a donation set up.’

She held out her clipboard to Dylan. He took the clipboard with his free hand. He said, ‘You want me to write my number down on here?’

‘With your name, address and bank details so we can get a donation set up. Would you like a pen?’

Dylan laughed. ‘What kind of writer would I be if I hadn’t got a pen?’

He checked his pockets.

‘Err, actually…’

She held out a pen to him. Dylan took it. The charity worker was still smiling at him.

‘So,’ he said, ‘you’ll have my details?’

‘Then somebody can be in touch with you in the next week.’

The pen scratched on the paper. Dylan said, ‘Are you a student here?’

‘No,’ she said. ‘Somewhere else.’

Dylan finished the form and handed the clipboard back to the charity worker. ‘All done,’ he said, ‘all my details, my mobile number is there.’


‘And my email address.’

‘Great, somebody will be in touch with you in the next week.’ She said, ‘Okay?’

‘Yeah,’ Dylan said. ‘Well-’

‘Bye!’ she said.


He shuffled his feet

‘Well,’ he said, ‘bye.’

He began to move away. He looked back. The charity worker was looking in another direction. She’d already found somebody else.


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