Bigfoot's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Bigfoot stepped from the trees at the edge of the square, a small wooden tea stand braced against his shoulder. He set it down with shaking hands. Three years of waiting had brought him this far. He wanted neighbors here. He wanted cups passed across his counter without fear. He placed a basket of berries and mushrooms on the new counter. A peace offering. He hoped the smell of pine and fruit would speak for him. Then the square noticed him. A vendor dropped a bundle of flowers. Footsteps scattered. Doors slammed. The bouquet lay in the dust where someone had been arranging it moments before. The square emptied in seconds. Bigfoot stood very still behind his stand. He did not chase. He did not call out. He only watched the curtains twitch shut across every window. He lit a small fire beside the stand to dry the damp wood. He would stay. He would not run home this time. The square was empty, but the stand was open, and that was a thing that had never been true before.