Every morning I saw him.
He would emerge out of the woods as naked as the day he was born…. except with more hair. He would stand there reluctantly as if he were waiting for the perfect moment. Then with a sigh and a look of mischief on his face he would raise his right hand and snap his fingers. From the trees and the woods they came squirrels all different colors and sizes. They would run up his legs and onto his shoulders. Then they would cling to one another till they had formed a long coat around him.
Their heads were buried underneath one another so that from a simple glance you could not tell that the coat was made of live animals. They were so still. Then about the town he would go taking care of his affairs. Picking up his mail and buying groceries.
The last day I saw him. It was like every other day. He stepped out of the woods naked and wide-eyed. Like always he paused grimed and raised his hand. Except today the snap that came from his fingers was dulled. It was not as clear as the ones before it. I don’t know if it was a bit of moister on his finger tips. Or just by happen chance he just did not snap as hard as he should have. From the leaves and the ground they came, the largest centipedes I have ever seen. They covered his body until it appeared as if he was wearing a suite of black armor.
He stood there for few seconds. You know those seconds the ones where you body switches from auto pilot to full cognition. That switch that is solely for processing something horrible that has just happened. I will never forget the screams.