There’s a monster under my bed.
He’s got lanky legs, a disgustingly long tongue and hairy ears. In fact, he’s hairy everywhere.
The space under there is almost too small, but it doesn’t keep him out. He’s there, every night.
I can hear him sometimes, moving around beneath my bed. He’ll forget what he’s doing sometimes and fall asleep, and I can hear him drift off to Dreamland. He’ll whimper a few times, maybe let out a few mini growls, and I imagine he’s dreaming of chasing some small adorable fluffy creature.
Yes, there’s a monster under my bed.
His name is Colt.