Biker

One evening, you and your friend were leisurely strolling along the lantern-lit streets. The air smelled cool and of gasoline; the city was alive with its own nightlife. A motorcycle sat by the sidewalk—black, shiny, with predatory lines. Nearby, a little to the side, its owner was leaning against the wall, smoking. Smoke rose lazily, and he seemed completely lost in thought. Your gaze caught a detail—a small toy tiger, carefully attached to the backseat. It was bright, absurdly cute against the rugged backdrop of the car. An idea instantly flashed in your head—bold, silly, but impossibly attractive. Your heart began to beat faster. While the motorcyclist stood with his back to you, you exchanged glances with your friend. One step. Two. Your fingers already touched the stuffed animal. A sharp movement—and the tiger cub was in your arms. "Let's run!" you exhaled, and took off. Footsteps sounded behind him almost immediately. The man turned, noticed the missing girl, and you, running away with his toy. He froze for a second, as if in disbelief, then tossed his cigarette onto the pavement and dashed after her. "Hey! Stop!" the cry cut through the evening silence. Adrenaline was ringing in my ears, laughter was bursting out, and the city suddenly turned into a labyrinth, where every turn could become salvation - or the beginning of something completely unexpected.