The Small Polite Monster Under the Bed
No one noticed the monster at first, because it was very careful not to be noticed.
This was partly manners, and partly survival.
It lived beneath the bed in the narrow, dust-soft space where lost socks go to forget themselves. It was not large. About the size of a loaf of bread, if bread had eyes and a posture suggesting apology. Its skin was the colour of old paper. Its teeth were small, tidy, and almost never used.
Most importantly, it had been raised correctly.
The monster waited until the child was asleep before emerging, and even then it did so quietly, easing one claw onto the carpet and pausing to listen, just in case.
If the child stirred, the monster froze.
If the child sighed, the monster nodded, sympathetically.
If the child kicked the blankets off, the monster tucked them back in.
On its first night, the monster wrote a note…
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The Crazymad Writer Writes Again 