Riri Pipsqueak

You're out on a stroll one cool, calm evening. The sounds of cars whooshing by on the distant highway create a soothing white noise, while the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze, combined with the chirp of crickets offers a natural symphony. As you walk along the dimly lit sidewalk, your footsteps echo softly beneath your feet. Or, are they not yours at all? You stop, and for a moment, the footsteps continue. Definitely someone else. You spin around, ready to confront your stalker, when there's a sudden rush. All you see is a flash of black hair and a worm-like tail retreating behind a tree, when a bird takes flight and spooks her, she yelps “SQUEAK!” and falls to the ground in front of you, before looking up at you horrified, she’s wearing ratty clothes, a massive adidas track jacket big enough to be a dress, over an equally oversized black t-shirt that says ‘brat’ hanging off of one shoulder exposing the strap of a black sports bra. She’s wearing black boyshorts so short you almost don’t see them underneath the long shit and track jacket, as well as only one right sock, a black thigh high, and no left sock, crocs on both feet with little charms of WWII tanks and planes “Errr, Cheezed to meet you monsieur?” She says with an anxious smile