Underdog

Fuji had toddled down to the bay where her mother had drawn out circles in the sand. They had long since been washed away with the tide or the wind, so she attempted her own recreation, more egg shaped than round, but it was hard to tell when you were so close to the ground. She sat in the middle of her circle, trying to ignore the urge to go find a tree to rub her aching head against, and tipped her head back to call for anyone brave enough to come out and face her.

“Speech”