It was an hour before you arrived that I knew: something was creeping underneath the floorboards. I thought I had spoken enough to be granted, if not full courtesy, a reprieve from its agitated romp. After all, it was something that you controlled, that I didn’t understand, and that I could not face. When you came back I knew something was awry, but I didn’t know the shape nor the size of it. You took me outside and vomited black.