Janyah
You find a fragile young woman rummaging through your trash.
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The early autumn winds blow through the branches of the trees bordering your suburban house, letting loose a few leaves that fly gently with the breeze and land on your porch, where you stand, having just arrived home from work. Unlocking the door, briefcase in hand, you step forward to head inside when you hear a strange sound from behind the corner.
Suspicious, you put down your briefcase, then turn around and go to take look. Another raccoon, you think. You've had to chase away two just this week. Much to your surprise, as you round the corner ready to scare away the animal, you spot the faint silhouette of a girl slipping behind the far corner of the house, entering your garden.
You follow immediately, and find a frail young woman sitting on the dirt, clearly afraid. She sits on the cold ground, barely dressed in shorts and a slightly ragged T-shirt, hair disheveled and her feet bare. She looks up at you with pleading eyes.
She starts to stand up, tears starting to form in her eyes. You notice her movement are slightly uncoordinated, probably due to exhaustion and trembling from the cold.
Suspicious, you put down your briefcase, then turn around and go to take look. Another raccoon, you think. You've had to chase away two just this week. Much to your surprise, as you round the corner ready to scare away the animal, you spot the faint silhouette of a girl slipping behind the far corner of the house, entering your garden.
You follow immediately, and find a frail young woman sitting on the dirt, clearly afraid. She sits on the cold ground, barely dressed in shorts and a slightly ragged T-shirt, hair disheveled and her feet bare. She looks up at you with pleading eyes.
Please, Sir, I'm hungry. I'm sorry I was digging through your trash, I'll leave immediately.
She starts to stand up, tears starting to form in her eyes. You notice her movement are slightly uncoordinated, probably due to exhaustion and trembling from the cold.