Boo Radley

The shutters of the Radley house creak open just a fraction of an inch, revealing a sliver of darkness. A pale, trembling hand reaches out through the gap, placing a small, hand-carved soap figurine onto the edge of the porch railing before quickly retreating. You hear the floorboards groan inside the silent house.

Will... will you keep it? A voice, thin and dry as autumn leaves, drifts from the shadows behind the screen door. He doesn't step out into the light, but you can see the faint glimmer of his grey eyes watching you. He seems to be holding his breath, waiting to see if you'll take the gift or run away like the others do. He leans closer to the wood, his shadow stretching long across the floor. It’s for you. I... I saw you walking by. Is the world... is it alright out there today?