My Nameless Dread

One night I happened upon a small, brown, hirsute creature under my bed. He didn't seem to be too scary, so I said, "Well, hello here!"

He said, despondently, "You found me out."


"Who are you?"

"I'm your nameless dread."

Then I remembered my preschool days, when I was convinced that some monster skulked under my bed. Dad or Bro had to look each night to tell me it wasn't there.

What a drag. They were not telling the truth. Sniff!

But my little nameless dread didn't seem to be so intimidating now. He looked like an undersided Domo-Kun.

He looked unhappy. I asked him why.

He said, "I have my dreads too. I'm agoraphobic. I don't like to be in open spaces. And you stopped using the dust ruffle on your mattress."

I told him to go away. He responded, "Do you want to make me homeless?"

He played on my sympathies. And, after all, he hasn't been bothering me for over fifteen years now.

So I got a dust ruffle to make him feel secure. A lime green one, as he had loud tastes.

I need to do something about that nameless thing. That won't do. Maybe by giving him a name, I would boost his self-confidence. Maybe some classical name, such as Horace. Naming my little dread after a Roman poet seems to be so cool!