The Forest in Appalachia Remembered Her Face and Followed Her Home

Animal with Human Hands

She spotted it behind a dumpster downtown: gray fur, hunched over something limp. She thought it was a raccoon until it turned. It had long arms, elbows too high, and hands. Actual hands, long-fingered and twitching. It dropped what it was holding—an old coat, maybe? No. A hoodie. Mike’s hoodie.

It sniffed the air like it could taste her panic. Then it smiled, not like an animal, but like someone who recognized her. She ran, but it didn’t follow. From then on, she swore it showed up closer every day, outside the bakery or down her street, always smiling like it had something planned.

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