Erin

by johannespunkt

The little hedgehog had sharp spines everywhere on her, and unretractable claws, and a helpless, pathetic personality that stayed endearing for a while but not forever. Tears came easily. She saw through her tears how all her friends left her, even other hedgehogs; anyone who ever felt warmth for her eventually cooled off, until she was wary of making new connections. She would keep to corners and to dark spaces; so she was perceived as standoffish, aloof, except for when she cried.

The little hedgehog started filing off her spines one by one until she was a hedgehog no more.

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