At night, when you sleep, it eats anything you’ve left on it and grows more tentacles. First a stack of mail and my penny jar disappeared, later I was searching for my black vase full of black roses. When I was looking for my car keys I noticed the nubs sprouting from the previously smooth underside.
The stray cats disappeared from the shopping market. The trees emptied of birdsong. The table became too long for the hall I had put it in, so I moved it to the foyer where there was a bit more room. I had to buy an area rug to cover the deep gouges it made in the floor as it paced at night. No matter, it looks great. I wouldn’t be selling this awesome table, but my fiance insists. It has learned to climb stairs.
I never should have shown her the scratch marks on the bedroom door upstairs. Now she won’t sleep over.
For sale to good goth owner, $666 or O.B.O.