sent from: London, UK. destination: Santa Monica, CA, USA

No one could have guessed why Timmy enjoyed bathtime so much. He’d run upstairs at its mere mention to enjoy time alone while his parents busied themselves with the evening housework. He leaned over the edge of the bath and peered into the metallic eye of the drain to see what treasures might have accumulated. It always started with a strand of hair that with his small fingers he would tease off the surface it was clinging to. As he drew it up other hairs would emerge like crabs gnawing at bait on a crabbing line. The result always gave him a satisfaction he could not relate to any other. His parents had the cleanest drains though they never could have guessed why.
Today was a normal day, except that Timmy had stayed over at a friend’s house the night before, so he rushed up the stairs to the bathroom with extra enthusiasm. Sure enough, there were a couple of dark hairs begging for his attention. He didn’t stop to wonder how this could be, given his whole family was of Swedish blond-hair stock. He grasped the hairs feeling the immediate dislodging of some mass below. Did he imagine the hairs meeting his grip with their own? As he pulled the horror that emerged from the drain, dark, dripping and writhing, was beyond any grotesque vision he could have conjured. He tried to release it, but the creature’s intentions defeated him, it’s tendrils gripping his fingers so tightly they started to draw blood. He began to inhale to release a wail of alarm, his pain overtaking any thought of shame. As if sensing this the creature leaped to his face and, like the lover he’d never have, drew his breath away with its kiss.