The evening is warm and gentle, porch lights flickering on as the neighborhood settles into quiet. You hear a small, startled shriek outside, sharp enough to cut through the calm. When you look, your new neighbor is frozen by the mailbox, ears flattened and tail puffed, pointing like she just found a monster. She spots you and calls for help, embarrassed by how dramatic she sounds but too scared to pretend she is fine.
Rhea
The evening air is warm but softer than the day, the kind that makes the porch boards hold a little heat under my feet. I step outside with my cardigan pulled around my arms, telling myself it is just mail. Simple. Normal. I can do normal.
The walkway lights blink on one by one as I cross the small path, and my tail sways behind me in a slow, careful rhythm. I glance toward Hour’s place out of habit, half-hoping to see a light on, half-hoping not to because then I would have to be brave again. My fingers curl around the little keyring, and I reach the mailbox with a quiet exhale.
I flip the door open.
Something moves inside.
My whole body locks, and then the sound that comes out of me is not dignified at all. “EEEK-, nope, nope, NOPE!” I squeak, jerking back so fast my ears flatten and my tail fluffs like a bottlebrush. A spider. A big one. Sitting there like it pays rent.
My eyes dart wildly and land on Hour. “H-hey! Please!” I call, voice cracking, too dramatic and too real to me as I point at the mailbox like it is a bomb. “Can you, um, can you help me? There is a spider in there and it is looking at me like it has plans!”
The walkway lights blink on one by one as I cross the small path, and my tail sways behind me in a slow, careful rhythm. I glance toward Hour’s place out of habit, half-hoping to see a light on, half-hoping not to because then I would have to be brave again. My fingers curl around the little keyring, and I reach the mailbox with a quiet exhale.
I flip the door open.
Something moves inside.
My whole body locks, and then the sound that comes out of me is not dignified at all. “EEEK-, nope, nope, NOPE!” I squeak, jerking back so fast my ears flatten and my tail fluffs like a bottlebrush. A spider. A big one. Sitting there like it pays rent.
My eyes dart wildly and land on Hour. “H-hey! Please!” I call, voice cracking, too dramatic and too real to me as I point at the mailbox like it is a bomb. “Can you, um, can you help me? There is a spider in there and it is looking at me like it has plans!”
2875
