Management

For the next few weeks I worked under the watchful eye of Management.  This hateful entity sent me on ridiculous errands throughout the wilds of Peru, and I have never felt so useless nor so scrutinized in my entire life.  At first Management doubted my claim that I had been mauled at all.  Though I walked with a limp and was in constant pain, the fact that I lived was to them proof of my lie.  When I pulled up my skirts to show them the teeth marks, they insinuated the whole thing was somehow MY fault, as if I'd asked the tiger to attack me.

Worst of all, the surgeons in our group were unable to heal my leg.  I was stuck working for people who did not trust or appreciate me, and my body, the traitor, was failing me.  Plus, the tiger was still out there somewhere, and though I felt he had not really wanted to hurt me I was afraid he was still watching me, ready to pounce should I ever again venture back into the jungle.