I know what you’re thinking—I’m one of those sexy, muscle-bound avenging angels straight out of a summer blockbuster. No, not really. Rarely have I waltzed away in victory with phoenix-fire flames as my backdrop. Maybe once—but I wasn’t paying attention. The stress and responsibility of this job is distracting.
I’m no angel. Usually after a fight, I slink away into the dark alone.
-TIGRESS: a short story by D. Marie Prokop