J is for Jimmy Squarefoot

Jimmy Squarefoot is generally described as a phantom or ghost with a pig's head and two tusks like those of a wild boar. His large feet are swathed in calico bands and are squarish in appearance, hence the name. 

The moon was golden.  It had risen over the horizon a huge, blazing orb that had now become smaller, and had just a bare hint of it's original color. Nonetheless it bathed the narrow road in light, casting shadows in odd places, making canyons out of thin shadows and flat spots out of potholes.  Jimmy shuffled along, humming a tune.  His big, flat feet were sensitive and he had wrapped them in thin strips of calico to protect them from the rocks and twigs.  There was nothing he loved more on this earth than to wander.  But it was hard to find footwear when you're feet were big and square.

That's if anyone would even sell him shoes... which they wouldn't.  People- human type people- were always frightened of Jimmy.  They had the unnerving tendency to shake uncontrollably, stutter, or simply run screaming.   He wasn't sure what it was that made them act this way.  It could be his big, oddly shaped feet, attached to his long spindly legs- but they were good for walking.  Or maybe his long, lanky arms-  but they were good for reaching the summer apples.  Maybe it was his giant boar's head, or his long, wicked looking yellow tusks?  Well, he couldn't really help how he looked, now could he?

Besides, his mother always said he was a darling thing.  Humans were strange creatures.

He walked along, content to bathe in the moon's glow.  If it weren't for people's reactions to him, he wouldn't have to do all of his rambling at night.  But then- if he didn't walk at night he would have missed out on the moon's glow, and the soft sounds of the night birds and the singing of the cicada and the little peeper frogs. 

If he kept on this trail he would come to a little house before the sun came up.  He knew that she would be waiting for him- along with a spread of fresh baked goods and warm spiced tea.  Mora was human, but she wasn't one of the stuttering or running types.

When he finally arrived at the little house, Mora greeted him with a smile.  Her soft blue eyes stared past him, but the warmth was still there.  He stopped to slip the calico bands off his feet and stood wriggling his long toes against the smooth hardwood floor.  It smelled like fresh apple pie in the house, and his stomach grumbled.  Mora stood on tiptoes to run her sensitive fingers over his furry head, fondly ruffling his hair.  Then she led him to the table, skirting a chair, knowing it was there by memory.

"I'm so glad you're back," she said with a smile.  She was the only one who told him he was beautiful.

Being blind, she was the only one who could really see him.

(In my head he's a bit more furry, and has bigger tusks- like a wild boar...)