>You take the trash out late at night
>Uneasily gripping your flashlight, with four nice and hefty D-cell batteries in it, the entire way
>Half the time you're out this late there's some weird, high pitched giggling noises in the distance when you walk back to your rental trailer
>Usually in the direction of your closest neighbor, a quiet coyote who always seems to be wearing a turtleneck and sweatpants two sizes too big for her
>Her luck at having her own house is outweighed by the eerie nighttime noises and having a mobile home built in the 80s as her neighbor
>Part of you is convinced your neighbor has a skinwalker stalker living in the bushes next to her porch
>But you've never seen spooky glowing eyes
>And the one time you were freaked out enough to ask if anyone is there it went quiet for a month
>Most of you suspects you're just going crazy from all the overtime you put in at the shop
>Eventually you make it to the road, drop the bags in the bin, and march back down your gravel driveway with the hair on your neck prickling
>Halfway back, you hear the mocking sounds
>A giggle without intent, warbling at the edge of a whine
>You came prepared this time
>A flick of your thumb and a sharp twist points the bright beam of your flashlight at your neighbor's bushes
>Nothing
>Just some big holly bushes, their spiky leaves menacing enough
>Except, on the porch, you spot the yellow gleam of eyes
>Heart in your throat, you flick the light up
>Standing there is your coyote neighbor, sans a turtleneck
>Instead she's got a loose fitting t-shirt on, a can of beer in one hand, and shocked expression plastering her face
>It's with a bit of a surprise that you realize, judging from how her tail lifts up the shirt at her back, that she's only wearing the shirt
>The two of you stare at each other for a good minute
>Bit by bit the insides of her ears redden and she seems to shrink back
>You finally think to lower the light some
>"Uh, evening," you mutter, wracking your brain for her name but coming up short thanks to speaking with her all of one time
>She hunches down a little more
>But gives you a tiny wave with her empty hand, the can coming up protectively in front of her mouth
>Not to drink, no
>But to try and hide half her face behind it
>She tries to mutter something, except she's so far away and quiet it might as well be silent
>"Sorry, what was that?"
>Her tail is a fluffed up mess behind her, lifting her dress of a t-shirt a little higher
>Damn your spooked eyes for looking, but she has wonderfully shapely and lean thighs
>"?? ????, ??????? ?????? ??? ????" she says, a nervous, high pitched giggle following her words
>She shrinks further, while you instantly recognize the sound
>Wait
>Those eerie sounds have been her?
>Has she been watching you?
>You don't get to ask any questions before she mutters something else and bolts back into her house
>Confused by the encounter, you decide it's far too late for any of this and go back to your rental
>Once inside you flop onto your cheap couch, too tired to get into bed
>At some point in the haze of thinking about cute coyote legs and how she doesn't need to hide behind such baggy clothes, you pass out
---
>You wake with a jolt
>It's past dawn and your limbs are sprawled over the couch
>An immediate freak out about being late for work grips you
>Only after you have a panicked shower and shave, do you realize that it's the weekend
>You collapse back onto your couch with a groan
>At least you're awake
>And you had a few minutes of not thinking about your surprisingly cute, but possibly a stalker, neighbor
>Those thoughts inevitably return
>Fruitless, confusing, but pleasingly mysterious
>Your lounging daydreams of talking to her next time you see her are interrupted by a knock on your front door
>The doorbell is dead and landlord refuses to fix it
>You get up, realize you only have boxers on, and shout, "Just a moment."
>After acquiring some pants and a shirt, you go to the door
>And find there's no one there
>Just an envelope with frilly, cute bordering taped to the screen door
>The note it has inside is the same kind of dainty, flowery pink
>Written in flowing script is an apology from your neighbor for startling you
>Along with a rambling explanation that boils down to she makes videos online about crafts for a living, how she drinks after finishing up production for the day, and how she makes "coyote giggles" when drunk and nervous
>After even more rambling on the back, she explains she's anxious because she's thought about talking to you every time she sees you, but she only sees you late at night and didn't want to disrupt you since you leave for work at dawn
>The letter rambles on more, but in a cute if disjointed way, about how if you'd like to come over she'd love to get to know her neighbor and maybe share a beer this evening
>Along with, of all things, a hand drawn heart and sparkling stars before her name
>Eliza
>Odd as it is to get a note from a grown woman that looks appropriate for someone in high school, your curiosity is raised
>Hopefully Eliza doesn't change her mind on you visiting later this evening
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