I was walking along a dark road at night when I spotted a small matchbox on the pavement at my feet. There were soft mews and other plaintive little noises coming from this matchbox. I knelt down and scooped the thing up in my hand. There was a little clump of grey fur sticking out of the end of the box where the cardboard tray protruded slightly. This clump of fur looked very dry and stiff and dead, but I could still hear the sounds coming from the box and I could feel a slight tremor from something moving around inside. I began to carefully slide the tray out with the tip of my fingernail.
Doing this caused a great deal of agitation inside the matchbox, enough to knock it from my hands. As it landed back on the pavement, I saw a dark little form skitter away from it. It was just a shapeless lump of grey fur. It was hissing angrily now, making sharp snorts and wet snarls. It skittered all over the pavement and it kept circling around my feet in a way that was making me break into my own agitated dance there in the road, simultaneously trying to stamp on it with one foot while avoiding it with the other. The thing latched onto my shoe and I could feel it scurry up under my pants. I could feel the tickle of its feet moving up my ankle, and then the sharp sting of its teeth as it bit into my calf.