Under my bed there is a monster. He is matted and cross looking. He has twelve legs and even more feet. He has the other things too, teeth and whatnot.
One day, tired of the life I had stumbled upon, I decided it was his turn to deal with this shit. I stuck my hand under the divan and I took hold of him by the hairy ankle and yanked. ‘You’re up top now’ I announced. His many, many eyebrows knitted. ‘You heard me. Scat!’ and as he stood up I wriggled myself into position.
It’s nice down here. Warm.
Author’s Note: I have fantasies of agoraphobia.