Wild.

The other day, I had the uncanny feeling something was watching me.

Something wild.

Upon closer inspection, the wild thing pretended that he hadn't been staring at me.


But I knew he had been.

When I went to touch him, he camouflaged himself.

And then let me know, passively aggressively, that I was not to try to find him.

He was shy.

But, as I left the premises, I totally think he gave me the finger.

Those wild things are rude, I tell you. Rude.