The pursuit had been going on for hours now, and Sharky was about beat. His body felt leaden and with every beat of his tail he knew himself to be getting weaker and weaker.
Something inside him refused to just give in, though, so he turned to face the behemoth. He kept his eyes open and his gaze stony as the monster came ever closer.
He might not be much of a shark but he determined to die with at least the semblance of bravery.
The monster stopped within a millimetre of his face.
“Tag,” it said, “you’re it now.”
Jane Jago’s Drabbles – Four Hundred and Eight
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