I have to feed the monster that lives under my porch. Every day, or it will die. It’s a messy business.
When it was little, it was much easier. Grasshoppers, frogs, and the occasional mouse, were all easy to catch.
Then one day I saw it slinking out, looking to hunt on its own. It must have been hungry. It had gotten so large.
So I scaled up its dinners. Squirrels, a possum, one time, and then cats.
I’m not sure if the neighbors have caught on, but I won’t be getting Christmas cards when they find out.
For now, the monster seems content enough with the food that I give it. I’m not sure what I’d do next. There are probably one or two children on the block that wouldn’t be missed, but they’d only go so far.
Sometimes I wonder why I keep it around. As yet, it has done nothing for me.
There is a monster under my porch, though. How many people can say that?