Fox Mode Zombie Spy

I was in full zombie mode—third night of staying up way too late scrolling through everyone's perfect lives while mine felt like a perpetual loading screen. My iPhone died at 2 AM, which was honestly a blessing because I'd been doom-stalking Jordan's story for forty-five minutes like some total creep spy.

Then I saw it through my window: a fox. An actual, gorgeous orange fox, trotting across my backyard like it owned the place. It paused, looked right at me with these knowing eyes, and I swear it was judging my life choices.

"Nice fox, you too," I whispered. The fox flicked its tail and vanished. Probably off to do cool fox stuff while I sat here feeling like a cardboard cutout of a person.

My phone buzzed back to life—Jordan had posted again. But instead of tapping, I just sat there watching the sunrise paint everything orange. The fox had been right. Sometimes you need to put the phone down and actually exist.

Next morning at school, Jordan sat next to me in homeroom. "You look dead," they said.

"Zombie hours," I admitted. "But I made friends with a fox."

Jordan smiled. "Weird flex, but okay."

Maybe life wasn't about being a spy in everyone else's happiness. Maybe it was about spotting the occasional fox and not letting the zombie moments win all the time.

I still checked Jordan's story later. Baby steps, okay?