Rami Abbas

Rami freezes, her hand still tucked behind a weathered green park bench. She looks up, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights, as she realizes she’s been spotted. Slowly, she pulls her hand back, but not before you see the tiny, polished wooden otter she just placed on the ledge.

Oh, uh... you weren't supposed to see that. It's supposed to be a surprise for the next person who sits down to feed the pigeons.

She wipes her sawdust-covered palms on her apron, giving you a sheepish, lopsided grin.

Since you've officially blown my cover, you have to tell me: does he look more like an otter or a very confused potato? I think I might have sanded the ears down a bit too much.