me you

Sean King

Michael Ceraso

English

She turned around slowly. There it was - hair standing on end, deep growls chasing high pitched barks. It barely reached her knee but the sounds made goose bumps raise on her skin and her legs felt like carved from granite.

The fabled chihuahua of the moors was real, and it was terrifying. More terrifying than any description you’ve heard or read. Its almost impossible to explain the fear this tiny pup strikes in anyone unlucky enough to encounter it.

I tell you. I saw the chihuahua, but I escaped. It’s fur dirty with the mud of the moor. Its eyes glowed red when it saw me. It charged with high pitched barks. Luckily, it has small legs, so it couldn’t run very fast. I outpaced it. But the same wasn’t true for Sherlock Holmes.

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